


New Beginnings

by happywife416



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Skyhold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:18:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 23,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywife416/pseuds/happywife416
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Hawke and Varric finally got together during the time of Dragon Age Inquisition? And had cutsey nicknames for each other. And just in case all the fluffy is too much, check out the angsty alternate ending to Adamant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Merchants Guild at Skyhold

A lone figure approached the gate of Skyhold on horseback. The cloak was dark and they bore no heraldry. The gate guard called for them to state their business. "I'm here to see Varric Tethras, merchant guild business." A female voice responded, keeping her face deep in the hood. "I have a letter."

  
The guard inspected it and then waved her through. "I didn't know dwarves could ride horses." The cloaked woman smirked but continued to the stable where she quickly rubbed down her horse before heading up the steps to the main building of Skyhold. She paused on the stairs to gaze up at the building. It was hard to believe something so large existed in the middle of the mountains. Even harder to believe it had been forgotten.

  
A few steps into the hall she pulled a servant's sleeve. "I'm looking for Master Tethras, I'm from the guild."

  
The woman looked her up and down but any distinguishing features were well hidden. The woman finally nodded. "He lunches in his room. This way."

  
The servant woman knocked and announced he had a visitor from the merchants’ guild before returning to her duties. Varric sighed and didn't look up from his papers. "I'm not coming to the next meeting; I'm never coming to a meeting. And you can't drag me there. “The door clicked shut. "Look, -" he was interrupted by a soft chuckle.

  
"I wondered if I could pass as a dwarf. But I didn't think I'd fool you." She tossed back her hood and leaned against the door. "You need better security then well-meaning servants, storyteller. No wonder a friggin archdemon snuck up on your asses."

  
Varric came around his desk. "It's been too long, Hawke." Within a few steps they were wrapped in each other's arms. She smelled like campfire and leather with just a hint of the vanilla and sea.

  
"Definitely too long, my friend." She released him quickly, after all this time she still felt his fire on her skin, beckoning to her soul. "So, fancy castle. Better than the Viscount's keep. And immeasurably less stuffy.” She sprawled out in the chair, kicking her boots up on to the edge of the table.

  
"Less blood too but you haven't been here long enough to change that." Hawke chuckled. "You are going to have to stay out of sight. The Inquisitor isn't due back until the day after tomorrow. And the Seeker is here."

  
"Oh, the same one that kidnapped you and then held you hostage trying to find me?" Varric nodded. "I think I need to meet her."  
"She's relatively calm at the moment. Let's not ruin it yet."

  
"Well. What am I supposed to do? Hide under your bed?"

  
"No. That'll lead to trouble. Leliana got a room set up for you, down the hall as far away from Cassandra as we can get you."

  
Hawke gave a dramatic sigh. "I travel for weeks. On a boat, in perfect sunshine with a lovely pirate queen and a darling blood Mage, drag my ass across Maker forsaken Ferelden and I have to hide in a dungeon because the Inquisitor is too busy inquisiting to meet the Champion of Kirkwall. This is what unloved feels like."

  
Varric tossed a wad of paper at her while leaned against his desk. "You're unloved and I'm Empress of Orlais."

  
Hawke dropped her head over the arm of the chair, exposing the line of her throat to his gaze. He followed it down her body to where her breasts swelled against her traveling clothes. She gave him an upside down grin. "I can verify you have the wrong set of balls to be the Empress."

  
Varric shook his head. "All this shit is weird, we need a miracle, and you are worried about types of balls."

  
"We have a crazy, red lyrium fused archdemon and darkspawn magister combination that was unsealed with my blood in a Grey Warden prison. That is supposed to be dead. There is a giant hole in the sky, not currently shitting demons though. A very brave elf is leading the Inquisition backed by the Hands of the Divine. I've been on the run for Maker knows how long anymore, trying to avoid an Exalted March being sent to Kirkwall and I just waltzed right into Chantry land, complete with a Seeker of Truth. Oh, and the lovely Cullen Rutherford is here. We don't need a miracle; we need a litter of them riding gryphons. And until I meet the Inquisitor, I have the biggest balls of the whole thing. All this shit is weird doesn’t begin to cover it."

  
"Curly did come around in the end."

  
Hawke snorted and grabbed an apple from his table, taking a bite. "If he had grown a backbone, and stopped being a prick about mages, we would have been able to save more people. Hell, Meredith may have been stopped before she murdered half the Circle and drove a fine first enchanter to be an abomination."

  
"You can't blame Kirkwall on one person."

  
"No. I don't." The apple was already devoured and she was working on a second one. "I blame everyone equally, even myself. I don't even knock a bunch of blame onto Ander's shoulders and he blew up the Chantry." She froze a moment and stared at Varric. "Void take him, I hope he wasn't the inspiration for the Conclave."

  
"Who knows." She picked up a third Apple. "Did you even eat on the way here?"

  
She smiled sheepishly, twirling the apple on her fingers. "I ate when there was an inn."

  
"And the last inn on the way to here was at Haven. Burned to the ground."

  
"I packed some jerky and those funny biscuits Isabela had on board."

  
"Hardtack and jerky." He shook his head. "You need to learn how to cook."

  
"I can cook on a campfire. It's either snowed or rained since I got to this country or everything is still empty from the Blight. I debated eating a darkspawn at one point." She grinned at the look of horror on his face. "Although if you are going to offer more food, I'm not saying no. Also a bath would be much appreciated. I can't feel my shoulders or my ass from riding that four footed demon."

  
Varric chuckled. "I can help with your shoulders, sit up." A few seconds in to him rubbing her shoulders and she melted into his hands, humming around the last bite of apple. Even after the week or so on the road from Redcliffe, her hair was still soft.

  
He found a tight spot and worked it out with his thumb. Hawke gave a little moan that traveled straight down his spine and to his groin with a flare of fire. "Who knew storytelling made for such great hands? You're my favorite person." She tilted her head back and smiled up at him. He's hands faltered for a second before continuing down her shoulders quickly.

  
"Let's go terrorize a servant about getting everything else you want."

  
She leapt up off the chair and whirled him into a tight hug. "You have to promise I can visit from down the hall. Letters are not the same as playing Wicked Grace." She quickly released him and bounced out the door. Varric smiled, rubbing his chin. He wasn't sure what he was thinking when he asked Hawke come here but he was glad to have her back.


	2. Menace

She was sitting in his room, bare feet dangling over the arm of the chair, in almost full armor when he came back in. She was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and paused long enough to glance up and give him a smile when he shut the door. It set his heart on fire, seeing her again and things being so damn normal, for them. Andraste's ass, but he had missed this woman.

  
"The Inquisitor is finally back."

  
She set down the book. "And here I was starting to feel at home. Minus I didn't pack anything besides metal armor and leather armor."

  
"You could order some clothes, you know."

  
Hawke stood and rolled her shoulders and began pulling on her boots. "As soon as she decides to go, we are leaving for Crestwood. Odds are the inquisition won't need me after that and I'll find a harbor to wait for Isabela's ship to take me back to the Free Marches." Her boot buckles were giving her a fit so she missed the sadness that flickered in Varric's eyes. She finally fought it into position and looked up at him. "Unless you want me to stick around to drive you crazy. They have a great library here."  
Varric tried to keep his tone neutral. "Unless you have other people to terrorize, be my guest. Blondie has probably driven Justice crazy by now and would welcome the company though."

  
She wrinkled her nose. "I saw him, for several weeks, before I got your letter and hopped ship with Isabela and Merrill. He's doing okay. Justice really freaks me out now though. He likes to glow and tell me I'm foolish. All the time." She twirled. "Champion enough? First impression is everything."

  
Varric chuckled. "You make an impression every time."

  
"Now that's scary. Battlements, right? Above the Tavern?"

  
"That's the place."

  
She grinned. "Meet you there then. I have my sneaky way."

  
Hawke did get there before Varric and the Inquisitor. The view from the battlements was astounding."Inquisitor Alanna Lavellan meet Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. I'll let you ladies get to know each other."

  
The two women sized each other up before Hawke cracked a smile. "I'll have to admit, when I heard you were an elf, I didn't quite believe it. But you're so elfy you have vallaslin."

  
"You know about those?"

  
"A little. I have a close friend who is Dalish. We spent a good amount of time with her clan before they all died."

  
"That story is common enough anymore." Alanna smiled. "I was expecting someone taller."

  
Hawke snorted. "If I had a sovereign for every time someone said that, I could bathe in it after freeing every slave and helping every mage in Thedas." She leaned on the battlement ledge. "You have great views here though. It reminds of Kirkwall. Except I realized looking out my windows meant I was looking at people who needed me."

Alanna crossed her arms. "You had a city. I have half of Thedas. Does it get easier?"

  
Hawke looked at her thoughtfully. "When I find out, you'll be the first to know."

  
"Varric said you fought Corypheus before."

  
Hawke's face wrinkled with disgust. "We didn't just fight him. He was dead. Poked all full of holes and bolts and not breathing. No heartbeat. He couldn't have gotten much deader."

  
"Crap." Alanna tapped her finger on her chin.

  
Hawke continued standing up to pace. "I have contacts in the Grey Wardens. Alistair was researching something for me when he sent news that he feared corruption in the ranks and that he was being hunted for speaking out. He's in Crestwood." At the question on Alanna's face she went on. "Corypheus can get into their minds. It's not pretty."

  
"You think that's happening now." Hawke nodded. "Tell Leliana everything. We have a few things to finish before we head to Crestwood."

  
Hawke grinned bowed dramatically. "Of course, my lady inquisitor." Varric was waiting by the battlement stairs and Hawke half shouted to him. "A round of Wicked Grace after I'm done with the Raven Mistress?"

  
"You know you can act like a normal person, Hawke."

  
She hopped up on the battlement ledge and winked over her shoulder. "But do normal people do this?" And stepped out into the air.

  
Alanna gasped and leaned over the battlement to see Hawke waving and laughing. "Does she always?"

  
Varric sighed. "Yeah. She's a menace. But she's my menace."


	3. The Champion Meets the Seeker

"Why do you look bruised?" Hawke leaned across the table, staring at him intently.

  
"I fell off Solas's ladder."

  
"Uh-huh. Surely it has nothing to do with the screaming match rumor that says it happened in the smithy between you, the Inquisitor, and Cassandra."

  
Varric refused to meet her eyes and tossed the card on the table. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

  
Hawke tapped her cards on her nose. "Mmm. Then I guess that you won't mind that after this round I'm taking a break to meet the Seeker in the training ring."

  
Varric groaned. "Hawke."

  
"She doesn't know she's meeting me. And it's not completely about the fact she kidnapped you, held you under interrogation, dragged you to Haven, and then tried to knock you out in the smithy. I just want to meet the woman who hounded my steps so closely. Also I have utter crap for a hand. Win, so I don't have to borrow money from you to pay you."

  
Varric didn't take her bait. "No head on the Chantry board. I like it on your shoulders."

  
Hawke put down her cards and leaned across the table to kiss him on the cheek. "I didn't think you cared." A devilish smile bloomed on her face as she stood and stretched.

  
"Menace."

  
"Champion to you." She slipped her belt around her waist. "I take it you won't come enjoy the show?"

  
"She already stabbed me in the book. I'll pass."

  
Hawke's face contorted. "In the book?"

  
"A hole clean through."

  
"I'll keep that in mind."

 

  
Down at the ring Cassandra was impatiently pacing the ring when Hawke materialized out of thin air. "Hello, Seeker Pentaghast. A little bird told me you were looking for me. If birds had chest hair."

  
Cassandra spun to face her sword at the ready. Once she realized who it was she lowered her blade. "Hello, Champion."

  
Hawke cocked her head to one side and leaned against the railing. "That's it? Hello, Champion? No you fucked Kirkwall, prepare to die? At last my hunt is over?"

  
"That was not why we were looking for you."

  
"If you weren't looking for my head, Seeker, why kidnap my best friend and hunt my other friends?" She gestured northward with her blade. "I can understand hunting Anders a bit though."

  
Cassandra sighed. "We wanted you for Inquisitor."

  
Hawke sheathed her blades. "That was a plot twist I wasn't expecting. Why?"

  
"The mages trust you, like perhaps no one else. We were hoping if you were at the Conclave you could have helped broker peace."

  
"You wanted that after talking to Varric about me? You must have been desperate. I'm very good at stabbing, stealing, and hiding. I commanded my merry band of misfits, but just barely. It was definitely more of a reactionary thing." Hawke gestured around her. "This, I couldn't have done."

  
Cassandra nodded. "The Inquisitor is very good at what she does. I admire her for it actually."

  
"Well, since you aren't out to kill me, want to spar?"

  
Cassandra smiled. "Certainly, Champion."

  
Hawke tossed her cloak over the rail and pulled her daggers. "I think I owe you a few bruises for Varric anyway."


	4. Chores for the Champion

Alanna found the Champion in the rotunda library, seated before a window with her feet popped up on the table beside her. She settled into the other chair. "I didn't take you for a reader, Hawke."

Hawke carefully marked her spot before fixing Alanna with a grin. "There isn't much time for it when you're on the run. It's my favorite thing to do. The down time here is being well spent."

Alanna smirked. "I'm surprised Varric lets you get away to read." She laughed when Hawke choked on her drink and at Dorian's explicative to not ruin the books. "We all see how he looks at you."

"I assure you, it's not what you think. We are very old friends."

Alanna fixed her with a stare that made Hawke squirm. "I've met old friends of folks before. None of them have questioned my intellect."

The corner of Hawke's lips twitched. "Maker, what did you do?"

"I'm sending you out with the Chargers. You've met Krem I assume."

"Does The Iron Bull let him go anywhere without an introduction?"

Both women laughed and Alanna shook her head. "Either way. You are headed out with them tomorrow while we finish up business before heading to Crestwood. I thought you'd appreciate some busy work, and Bull suggested you go out with his boys so you don't terrify our normal field soldiers."

"I don't know if me terrifying them is the right turn of phrase. But I'll gladly get out. I am, after all, at the Inquisitor's service."

Alanna smirked. "Don't say that too loud or I'll make you categorize books with Dorian."

"I wouldn't mind the help, and she's pretty enough to keep up with me. This library is lacking in caregivers." Dorian said shelving some books above Alanna and attempting to use her head as a shelf.

Hawke grinned. "Game. I'll spend the rest of the day helping Dorian then."

"Oh no." Alanna chuckled. "Varric wanted me to send you to him."

Hawke rolled her eyes. "Papa Varric needs some wine and to relax." She dragged out the word. "But fine, I'll go appease the old dwarf." She poked a finger at Dorian. "But I'll be back. You won't be that lucky."

Dorian and Alanna smiled as Hawke jumped the railing making a dive for Solas's desk and chuckled together at her laughter filled apology. Dorian looked at his friend. "She's going to cause us trouble."

"Oh, but it'll be the best kind. We need that kind of trouble."

 

"You called?" Hawke sang from the doorway.

"Don't let the Inquisitor bully you into work, Hawke." Varric didn't even look up from his papers. No, it was much easier to hide that he opened his mouth foolishly if he didn't look at Hawke.

She spared him the embarrassment by pushing his papers half off his desk and replacing them with her butt. A butt now covered in fine leather pants she had probably stolen but they hugged, he dragged his thoughts away from that route. Hawke was pouting down at him. "But, Papa Varric, I'm booored. If you won't leave me the castle, then I'll just have to ask Isabela very nicely to come join us. Or better yet, I hear the Red Jenny is quite the prankster. Imagine the chaos we could cause. And I’d still write Isabela."

He looked up at her, a constellation of freckles across a broken nose below eyes that remind him of the sea on a quiet spring morning. "You've been on the run how long? Take a break."

"Taken one." She tapped his nose. "I'll be fine, Varric. You don't have to worry about the Champion. She's ready for action." She shook her head laughing softly. "Besides. I want to help. And for once I can help without everyone looking at me."

"Just be careful."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be with the Chargers; how much trouble could I get in to?"

He folded his hands in front of him. "They open casks with axes for one."

Her eyes twinkled. "Sounds like my kind of party." She leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Just like old times, storyteller. But, I promised Sparkler I would help him in the library this afternoon. Pretty man and pretty books, all I need is some hot chocolate and my day will be complete." She sashayed out of his room with backwards grin and a wave.

Cole appeared right in front of his desk. It happened often enough that Varric no longer jumped. "Why don't you tell her?"

"I don't know how."

Cole shook his head. "You have all those words."

"Words aren't the half of it, kid, you'll learn."


	5. The Champion Meets Cole

"You're glad he doesn't smell like vanilla."

Hawke gasped and almost fell from her chair. She righted herself and carefully set down the book and her notes. "You must be Cole."

"Yes."

Hawke stared at the young man in front of her. He was so pale and thin; he was delicate looking underneath the Thedas sized hat. From what she had heard, he was lightning fast and deadly. "It's nice to meet you finally."

"You actually mean that?" There was shock in his voice and she refrained from peeking under the hat at his face.

"Yes? I like meeting new people."

His incredulity matched hers. "But I'm not real."

She reached out tentatively, giving him time to back away, before taking his hand. "You are real to me. I see a young man who's seen too many winters without enough food. But I also see that you are more than that. It doesn't frighten me."

Cole sat heavily in the chair beside hers, looking at their hands. "Your friend has a spirit inside him."

Hawke smiled. "Yes, his name is Anders. Alanna told me you are a spirit of compassion."

"I want to help."

"That's good. If more people thought that way, the world would be better."

Cole turned to stare hard at her. His gaze was like having your soul turned inside out and picked through. "You like to help too."

She smiled ruefully. "Yes."

"You think it hasn't always worked out for the best. You regret your helping."

She nodded slowly. "Sometimes. If I had done things differently, could I have saved more lives?" She squeezed his hands. "It's okay though. Questioning my past decisions means I make better ones in the future. Learning is just as important as helping."

Cole nodded. "But why don't you want him to smell like vanilla? That would help you."

"I." Hawke stuttered. "Because friendship is best for us. And I won't give that up."

"But if he feels like home, why not let him be home?"

Hawke's eyes misted. "Because home is more than the smell of vanilla and books. It's feelings and belonging. It's love and laughter. It's light-."

"In the dark." Cole finished for her.She nodded. "You both have a lot of words."

Cole faded from her sight, leaving Hawke alone with her thoughts. She shook her head. It was time to get some sleep. Tomorrow she was going to head out with the Chargers and she wanted to be on her toes. She tucked her notes and writing utensils into her pocket before leaning against the library railing. Solas was already gone for the night and the door to the Great Hall was open. She could see the flicker of candlelight from the table she knew was there. She could imagine him there too. She hesitated a moment at the railing before turning and taking the stairs down to her room. She wanted home tonight, but didn't want to test if it was in his arms. If he would even have her in them. She was almost content with him being the far away light in the dark. Enough to keep her going, but not enough for her to fall into foolish hope.


	6. Honorary Charger

Hawke stumbled into his room at Skyhold, partially covered in blood that he was hoping wasn't hers and smelling like the bottom of the barrel. She stood, wobbling, and glaring at the chair before dropping to the floor with an angrily muttered "why is there three of them?"

  
Varric stayed behind his desk. "I take your mission with the Chargers went well?"

  
"If you can call I have blood in every crevice that wasn't soaked in rain a success then yeah." She hiccupped. "I'm an honorary Charger now. We celebrated out there. "She waved her hand. "Did you know they break open casks with axes?"

  
"I had heard that." Varric was almost failing at keep his laughter under control. She hadn't been this drunk in a very long time.

  
"Axes." She mimed the body action necessary and fell over. "The world is spinning. Oh Fuck."

  
"No puking on the floor. We have things for that."

  
Hawke giggled. "Not the chest hair." She grimaced. "I think I'm sticking to the floor. Help."

  
"I'll unstick you after I get the water going."

  
She cooed from the floor after him. "Oh they got it fixed!"

  
Varric shook his head and headed into the water pit as Hawke had taken to calling it. Apparently before his good influence in Kirkwall, she lived in a Ferelden barn. The Hanged Man had been fancy for the girl. He had to give it to her on the pit part. They could fit 5 in the tub and with piped water carefully heated by the forge and the pipes bespelled, it made for a brilliant thing. He tossed two of the vanilla and salt things she liked so much into water before heading back out.

  
"Why do you have your own room? All your stuff ends up here."

  
"Because I always end up here. So everyone assumes that Papa Varric keeps me out of trouble. Like Cole but I can't read minds and he won't teach me." She was on her stomach, legs lazily kicking the air. She giggled. "We, the errant adopted dwarf children."

  
Varric snorted as he watched her draw out the patterns on the stone floors. He offered her a hand. "Come on. Hot water won't stay that way."

  
He started out just leading her across the room but after two shins and a toe busted on furniture he just picked her up. Hawke giggled. "This is new. You smell nice." She made a face. "I smell like Fenris."

  
"At least that part can be fixed. You're going to be miserable in the morning." He set her on her feet. "Once I know you aren't going to drown, you do have clothes in your room, right?"

  
She stared at the straps of her armor momentarily. "Yeah. I have a spare tunic. Just one. Hanging off the bed, maybe? Turns out 3 outfits doesn't cut it, when 2 is armor. " She poked a strap and then wiggled it, fingers fumbling. "Fuck."

  
Varric was leaned against the door frame. "Are you really so drunk you can't get your armor off?"

  
She glared at him. "I can't help it keeps moving."

  
Varric chuckled and came up behind her. "It's good thing you're short, Menace." He undid the straps to her chest piece tossing it behind him.

  
"Hey. No dents. I dent it enough." She helped him get herself out of her boots and bracers. "Ugh. I almost need to burn this thing. Does darkspawn blood even wash out?"  
She pulled the tunic over her head and tossed it in the pile, shortly followed by her hair tie. Her breasts were heavy and full, with dark peaks that begged for attention. Her curves went in slightly before rolling back out to her wide hips and the still soft expanse of her navel. Varric jerked his eyes up and swallowed, hard enough she heard it. "It's not like you've never seen me naked, Varric." She said turning away slightly, a small smile on her lips when his eyes strayed to her round ass and the miles of legs. Hawke broke into a grin. "I'm going to get in the water. And once your eyes return to your head, you could join me."

  
Varric closed his eyes and shook his head. "Maker, no. We went down that road."

  
She slipped into the tub and leaned her head over the side and sighed. "And the invitation never really closed." She waved her hand. "I won't drown, storyteller. That alcohol is wearing off far faster than should be allowed."

  
He backed out and shut the door before leaning his head against. Convincing himself to not open it back up and join her took every bit of reasoning he could muster. Things may have been finally over with Bianca, but Hawke was his best friend. It wasn't worth sacrificing that again.

  
Hawke closed her eyes, letting the warm water soothe her battle and travel sore muscles. The Chargers were camped a few hours outside of Skyhold to celebrate but all the alcohol burning through her veins inspired her to return to Skyhold alone.

  
"Andraste's ass, Hawke. You just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" She muttered to herself. She dunked her head under the vanilla scented water. She grabbed the soap, scrubbing travel and blood from her hair while the fire under her skin burned the alcohol from her blood. She had to run the water twice before she felt clean, but not even soaking twice had eased the ache in her heart.

  
Varric came back to his room to find her before the fire wrapped in the ridiculously large towels Ruffles had insisted existing for everyone. She was humming and finger working all the tangles from her damp hair. She glanced up and smiled sheepishly. "And here I thought I had scared you off. "

  
Varric scoffed. "It'll take more than that, menace." He tossed her tunic at her. "I had to get that from the wall torch by the way. You do know those make light for seeing, right?"

  
Hawke snorted, quickly braiding her hair and twisting it into a damp bun to dry. "You did notice I have saddlebags and that's it, right? I wasn't expecting staying this long."

  
Varric shifted uncomfortably as she dropped the towel from around her. The firelight glowed across skin that was too quickly covered up. "Do you have plans after this then?"

  
Hawke stared into the fire, arms crossed and foot tapping. "No." She sighed. "I'm tired, Varric. I just turned 30. I've seen more shit the past ten years then what most would see in 100. I help people and I kill people. I get it, I'm good at it. But for once?" She shrugged.

  
Varric silently crossed the room to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. "For once you don't want everyone looking to you?"

  
She smiled ruefully. "I'll admit to being tired of leading. I was meaning having other people's fates on my shoulders." She looked at him finally. "I just want it to be mine."

  
"Would you really turn down the chance to save the world and help people?"

  
Hawke smirked. "No. But the option would be nice, storyteller. If you ever make a sequel to Champion, write me a quiet old age on the beach. A small house with a big table for when everyone comes to visit and a good spot for Isabela and Merrill to weigh anchor. Good sticks for Hero to chew on."

  
"No happily in love ever after even? What kind of hero would that be?"

  
Hawke turned her gaze back to the fire and said quietly. "The kind that survive."


	7. Hawke and Bianca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Bianca and Hawke became friends?

"Before we head out, I want to meet this Champion of yours, Varric."

Alanna looked from Varric to Bianca and fought the urge to giggle. The one topic that could always throw Varric off his stride was Hawke. "She's in the rotunda library. She helps maintain it."

Alanna gestured to the door letting Bianca go first. Bianca gazed at the paintings before turning her gaze upward. "I'm looking for the Champion."

After several seconds, a figure hopped the second floor railing and landed perfectly on her feet before her. Hawke grinned at the dwarf woman. "And here I am."

Bianca smirked and held out her hand. "Bianca Davri. I'm an old friend of Varric's."

Hawke shook her hand and gave Varric and Alanna a single arched glance. "I bet you have all sorts of stories about our friendly rogue."

"Don't we all?" Bianca chuckled. "Assassin or artificer?"

"Tempest. I like terrifying my enemies. They are easier to stab if they are running away from you."

"Ah, I prefer a bow myself." The shortest woman in Thedas and the dwarven mystery lady linked arms and headed out the battlement door to continue their talk.

Varric looked at Alanna, eyes a little wide and unfocused. "That is going to cause me no end of trouble."

Alanna giggled patting him on the back. "I'm sure you can handle it. You can always hide from them at a merchant’s guild meeting. No one would look for you there."


	8. After Crestwood

"Varric! What on earth?" Hawke' mouth was hanging open while Varric hugged her tight enough her ribs popped.

  
"I missed you."

  
"I would say so but this is out of character for you, storyteller." She was awkwardly patting his shoulder and blushing to her roots.

  
"Shut up and hug me."

  
She hugged him back, with a bit less vigor then he was. "What's this about Varric, seriously?"

  
Varric released her. "I'll tell you later, my seeker senses are trembling."

  
Hawke rolled her eyes. "Fine. Do you have somewhere we can talk then? Because I am concerned you are dying. Or that one of our friends is dead."

  
Back in Kirkwall, they would have cleared his rooms at the Hanged Man and talked. Here in Skyhold it required wandering a labyrinth of hallways, rooms, and people before they finally made it to his room. It had a window flanked by large bookcases, was graciously furnished with a large, low desk, and a ridiculously large bed.

  
Varric stared into the fire as Hawke perched on the edge of the desk. He had writing strewn in various piles. Some of the ink was still wet and one piece was splotchy with ink and tears. Hawke noted the bed had suffered much tossing and turning the night before. "Well?"

  
Varric turned slightly toward her. "After seeing you again and then not seeing you for the two months you were in Crestwood I had time to think about things." Hawke cocked an eyebrow but kept silent. Varric sighed, smoothing his hair absently. "This is going to end badly." Hawke fought the urge to lay on the desk in dramatic repose, Varric had the look that said this was going to take a while.

  
"Drink?" Varric held the bottle out for Hawke to read the label.

  
"Sure. Although if it requires liquid courage on your part, I wonder if I should stay sober." She took the glass from him, fingers brushing like a fire across her skin. "Although maybe I should refrain for other reasons."

  
Varric knocked back his drink and then took her untouched glass from her, setting it on the desk beside her. He took her hands and watched her squirm before asking "Do you remember that morning in the Hanged Man?"

  
"There was lots of mornings in the Hanged Man. If Isabela and you didn't have rooms there, I would have had to get one permanently. You'll have to do better than that, storyteller. "

  
Varric scoffed. "You know exactly the morning I am talking about. The morning after we, Andraste's ass, you know what I'm talking about, Hawke."

  
"Yes. The morning I left your room in tears with my emotions dragging across the floor getting splinters. After what had been a pretty good night, I had thought, mistakenly." She took her hands back, crossing her arms and tucking them safely against her. "We said we wouldn't revisit this remember? I was a silly girl in love with her best friend. You made your point that Bianca, the dwarf and the crossbow, were the loves of your life."

  
"Yeah. That one." Varric sighed. "Life is easier when you are the narrator." Hawke snorted. "Things have changed. I told you what all had went on with Bianca. That whole leaking Valammar to the bad guys was the last straw of what had become a very complicated friendship."

  
"Broody would be proud of your ability to deal with betrayal. Minus her heart isn't on your desk. Although if she is the reason that paper has been cried on, I will make it happen."

  
Varric shook his head. "Off subject. This is about us."

  
"Us then. Need I remind you of some things? I'm like half your age. You're a dwarf. I'm a human. The merchants’ guild would kill me or maybe even the Carta. Every dwarf mother with an eligible daughter would stab you. I constantly get into trouble and you write a book about the trouble and that would be a conflict of interest if I smooch the author. It shows favoritism. You are a pronounced bachelor and need that status."

  
"Really? You are going to start by throwing that all back in my face."

  
"Yes. Because I stood there and let you break my heart because I thought you would be happier that way."

  
"I was wrong."

  
"I could have told you that."

  
"And you couldn't be humble to save your life."

  
"That's why you've made so much money. I should have gotten royalties."

  
"We have gotten off subject. Again. I'm not going to spend my life chasing you around, not when I can tie you to the bed where I won't have to worry about you." His arms were crossed as well and they stared each other down.

  
Hawke broke first and giggled. "You are assuming I didn't fall in love with Isabela."

  
"Rivaini has been sending me her friend fiction. She has been writing our back together kiss forever." He cleared his throat. "You have been my closest friend forever, Hawke. Life with you in hiding was boring. I had no one to talk to. And I spent all my time between letters worrying anyway. Bianca and I were over long before we realized we were. I need you around more than I have words for."

  
Hawke slid off the desk. She was the shortest human he had ever met; her nose was only a little higher than his. "If the storyteller is out of words then I guess it's my turn." She reached out and flattened his collar with her fingers, like so many times before, but this time she left her hand there. "Isabela taught me a lot after that. But mostly how to lock up how I felt so I could move on with my day. After her and Merrill got together, they kept their arms open to me but I got to watch their hearts merge into one. It's was beautiful and it made me miss you. After everything in Kirkwall, I welcomed the chance to run. Away from the crazy, the assassins, from you." She stepped closer to him, her hand tightening on his shirt. Her eyes dropped and she chewed her lip before adding softly "I missed you too. But I don't want to leave this room in pieces. I can't do that again. There's nowhere to run anymore."

  
"Then run to me this time. Like old times before I screwed it all up and threw it away on a broken lie to myself." He wrapped his hands around her waist and closed the space between them.

  
"You are always saying you are liar."

  
"Hawke, if you don't stop with unnecessary commentary, I will write you off a cliff."

  
Hawke chuckled breathlessly. "Said the dwarf tersely. It better be a good cliff. I've survived dragons." Her other hand trailed up to his other shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  
"Shut up and kiss me, Hawke." She leaned down the slight height necessary and her lips ghosted against his only to be interrupted by a loud knock on the door before it was flung open.

  
"Varric! Oh, was I interrupting?" The bewildered elven woman was holding a stack of papers, her face getting redder by the second.

  
Varric released Hawke, turned to the incomer and sighed. "No, Inquisitor. Nothing that can't wait and be expanded on later." He looked at Hawke long enough to wink, which had her scarlet to her roots.

  
"Oh. Well. I was going to ask you about these merchant prices." Inquisitor Alanna looked back and forth between them several times. "Josie was busy with the visiting nobles and I wanted to help and you are usually free in the afternoons. But I didn't realize the Champion was here. I'll come back some other time when you are in the Hall. Bye, Rose!" And she backtracked so quickly out of the room the candles at the door flickered out from her frost.

  
Varric crossed the room to shut the door before locking it. He turned back to Hawke before saying "So, the Inquisitor and you are on first name basis?"

  
Hawke laughed and leaned back against his desk. "Who is the one off subject now? I can hear Isabela screaming from here."

  
"Well, we can't have that. How about her hearing you scream from there?"

  
Hawke swallowed hard. "Oh really? What if I become mute?"

  
She shivered under his gaze before his final steps pinned her between his body and the desk. The kiss between them was discovery and longing, coming home, teeth bruising lips and hard swirls of tongues. His hands slid down and around her hips cupping her ass before he lifted her back on to the low desk. They broke apart, panting.  
"Don't be mute. It's hard to write and I rather liked hearing you moan my name."

  
Hawke gave a disgusted snort while he rubbed circles on her lower back. "Not the book. Cassandra would become insufferable."

  
Varric chuckled before trailing hot kisses down her neck, drawing a low moan from her. Hawke arched into him, dropping her head back slightly while undoing the tie on his hair. She tossed it behind him and ran her fingers through the freed strands. She gently tugged them pulling his lips back to hers from where they had been memorizing her collarbone. He slid his hands up her thighs and under her tunic only to find them pinned under her belt. “The only problem with you on this desk is your clothing.”

  
Hawke gave a soft laugh. "You have a perfectly good bed. Clothes can come off in between here and there."

  
He slipped his hands around to her back to press her more firmly to him before nipping an earlobe. "And lose the chance to think about this, every time I'm at my desk with a pile of guild letters?"

  
Hawke drew back from him, eyebrows arched. "Don't tell me you started reading them?"

  
Varric laughed. "No. I make piles of them. Sometimes I throw those piles into the fire. Sometimes I wish your mabari was here to eat them. But I will never read them."

  
Hawke chuckled breathlessly. "Bed, storyteller."

  
"Bossy." Varric picked her up off the desk so her legs were still wrapped around him. A few more searing kisses and he reluctantly let her feet slide to the floor.  
Hawke stepped back and slid one boot off while staring him in the eye. "I bet ten I can make it to the bed naked before you get what you call a shirt off."

  
"This perfectly tailored shirt removes easily and frames the chest hair perfectly. And don't think I can't see you have both boots off now."

  
Hawke smirked before unbuckling her belt and tossing it on the desk. "Well then I suggest you get to it before I win." She threw her tunic over her head and tossed it at him before darting away, cackling. She left a trail of the rest of her clothes leading to his bed where she wrapped a hand around a post to swing up on before turning back to him. Varric was still holding her shirt with a soft smile on his face."You owe me, Storyteller."

  
"You aren't in bed yet."

  
"So you still have a chance."

  
"Can't I enjoy the view of a beautiful woman on my bed, even if she is hanging from the post of it like some strange spider?"

  
Hawke blushed, he never knew that when it traveled to meet her chocolate roots that it has also traveled down her chest almost to her nipples. He noted the new scars she never mentioned receiving in her letters, some faded and white with others still angry and red. Hawke's blush deepened under his gaze and hid behind the post both hands gripping it until her knuckles were white. But her blue eyes gazed back at him, the barest of smiles crinkling the corners of her mouth and it was the most beautiful thing he'd seen yet.

  
Varric kicked off his boots, dropped his belt on the desk next hers. He pulled his shirt off as he crossed the room to her placing it on the trunk at the end of the bed. Hawke was kneeling on the bed, still peeking from behind the post.

  
"I'm not going to bite, Hawke."

  
She cracked a grin and leaned out from behind the post. "Now that's disappointing."

  
Varric rolled his eyes. "Come here." He held out his hand and she took it, climbing from her perch on the bed corner. Varric pulled her to him, running his hands up her arms then down her sides as he captured her mouth with his. Hawke sighed into him, body molding to his. He trailed kisses up her jaw to her ear where a nibble brought a strangled gasp from her, then down her neck again where it was already purpling from his attention earlier. Finally, he allowed himself across her collarbone and down to one nipple. He kept one arm wrapped tight around her waist and brought the other hand up to caress the other tight peak. He alternated between sucking and licking but a slight bite of his teeth had her moaning his name and wriggling her hands between them. She undid the laces on his pants and shoved them weakly down before grasping his length in her hand drawing a moan from him. He trailed kisses across to the other nipple and she dropped her other hand to fondle his sac while the first slide up and down his length. Varric trailed kisses back up her neck before claiming her mouth temporarily. He leaned his forehead against hers.

  
"I never thought I'd be this damn happy at you being the shortest human in existence." Hawke stilled her hands and snorted. Varric groaned. "Why did you stop?"

  
"The shortest human in existence can bounce from your bed, grab the top rung of the posts, and swing up to the rafter."

  
"And then do what? You're naked, that's the exact opposite of threatening."

  
"I'll throw splinters at you."

  
Varric scoffed and scooped her up in his arms and tossed her on to the bed, laughing. He kicked off his pants and joined her. Her eyes darkened to night sky as he crawled up her body kissing as he went. She entwined her fingers in his hair and pulled his lips to hers wrapping her legs around him and rolling her hips up to him.

  
"Impatient aren't we?"

  
Hawke closed her eyes and whined. "It's been years. I couldn't be more ready. Fuck. Me."

  
"It has been years. I plan on enjoying every inch of you."

  
Hawke gave an exasperated sigh before flipping them both over. She trailed kisses of her own down his body causing his breath to catch. She placed a kiss on his head before meeting his gaze. "We can spend every hour of forever doing that. But right now, I may perish if I let you take your sweet time."

  
She cut off his protest by taking him all in her mouth. Her eyes didn't leave his and she hummed in victory when his head dropped back with a moan. She slid her lips up and down his length several times more before he moaned her name. She drew her lips tight against him letting them pop when she released him. She grinned climbing up his body and positioning herself on top of him, just a hair’s breadth from her entrance. His hands slid up and around her hips before tightening as he bucked into her.

  
"Oh, Maker." She rolled her hips down to match his every thrust up. One hand drifted up her side to fondle a breast, each tweak of her taut peak pulling a sharp moan from her lips. Her moans became a staccato before she froze above him, muscles clamping and squeezing around his length while he fought to hold back his own release. She slumped down against him, head on his shoulder, while he traced designs on her back. "Feel better?"

  
She gave a breathless laugh. "Getting there."

  
He rolled them over and held himself up on his arms above her. Her hair was fanned out around her, curls tumbled and bumped in a chocolate halo. Her lips were red and swollen but smiling softly with just a hint of pearly teeth. Her eyes were still the blue of midnight, framed with the longest, darkest lashes he had ever seen. The candles glows caught in her eyes like stars. He knew in the daylight her eyes were liking drowning in the ocean, with all their depths. He liked them best this way, the way they shone only for him. He fought the urge to kiss all her freckles, the broken bridge of her nose, the scars on her forehead and jaw. "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

  
She gazed back up at him, cheeks flushing. "Storyteller."

  
He kissed her, deep and soft, trying to pour all the words he was afraid to say into it, hoping she would understand them. She wrapped her arms around him, tangled fingers into his hair, moaning into him when he slowly began thrusting again. He hooked his arms behind her knees, changing the angle allowing him to go deeper, pulling moans from both of them. He felt her muscles start to tighten once again. "Varric." She moaned as he picked up his pace to join her. Soon they both crested the waves of pleasure rocking through them as the stars collided and then exploded.

  
He dropped to the bed next her, stretching out his arm in invitation. She settled into his side with a sigh, head snuggled into his shoulder. The quiet that followed was easy, peppered with light kisses. Hawke's eyes fluttered closed as she tightened her arm around him. He brushed back the curls from her face before planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She smiled languidly and opened her eyes. "I could get used to this."

  
"Good. Because I'm not letting you go again."

  
"Hmm. So you're going to hold me, naked, all the to the Western Approach while I try to beat some sense into some Wardens? Oh. Or when we have to go to dinner and scandalize Ambassador Montilyet?"

  
"Hush."

  
"Make me." Hawke smirked.

  
Varric rolled on to his side and kissed her again. "Challenge accepted."


	9. A Quiet Evening

Several hours later there was a soft knock on the door. Hawke stayed sprawled in bed but Varric slipped into his pants and shirt before answering it.

  
"Inquisitor Lavellan sent me with dinner. She asked me to tell that she already told the Ambassador you and the Champion won't be down this evening."

  
Varric took the tray from the servant. "Give the Inquisitor my thanks then. Her resourcefulness is appreciated." He kicked the door shut and placed the tray on the table before inspecting the bowls.

  
Hawke raised up on her elbows. “This is the nicest bed I’ve been in since leaving Kirkwall, eons ago. That better be some good food if I am to leave it.”

  
“Some kind of pasta thing, roast, bread, fruit bowl.” Hawke scoffed. “How about hot chocolate?”

  
She shot out of bed. “Oh, Alanna remembered!” She looked around, searching for her tunic before shrugging. “Can I borrow a shirt? Since you have hidden my clothes, scoundrel.”

  
“In the top of the trunk on the left. Other left.” Hawke flipped him a rude gesture without looking back at him while she was bent over the trunk rummaging. “I could get used to that view.”

  
Hawke snorted and slipped shirt over her head. “Don’t you own any shirts that don’t frame the chest hair?”

  
“Nope, it’s my trademark.” He swallowed hard when she turned around. What framed his chest hair barely contained her bosom and left her bare to her bellybutton. The bottom barely concealed the roundness of her hips and made her legs stretch on for miles. “Remind me to thank my tailor.”

  
She smiled shyly. “Isabela would so approve. Also, I did not realize that the only difference in our heights is my legs. It’s probably the boots though.”

  
He poured her a mug of chocolate. She took it sinking into one of the chairs eyes screwed up in bliss reminiscent of one she had made in bed. She sighed happily and opened her eyes. “This was worth getting up for. All on its own.”

  
He took the seat across from her. “What about my charming company?”

  
“I could charm you back into bed.” She smirked.

  
Varric shook his head. “Food. When was the last time you had a decent meal anyway? You are almost see through.”

  
Hawke snorted. “You do realize fresh food doesn’t keep on a ship, right? I had to eat like a pirate, and then puke like the landlubber I am. Climbing trees, ruins, tall buildings, I’m good. Put me on Isabela’s ship and I’m like a newborn foal with broken legs. Or when Hero got drunk with Fenris.”

  
“Where is Hero? Not that I don’t mind him not watching us. Or drooling on papers he shouldn’t.”

  
“With Bethany and Anders. On Isabela’s ship.” She wrinkled her nose. “A mabari on a ship is a sight to behold, and possibly the worst smell ever.” Varric chuckled and sighed internally when she finally picked up some food. She was always too worried about everyone else to take care of herself.

  
They ate in companionable silence for a time. “So the Inquisitor?”

  
Hawke swallowed mouthful thinking her answer through. “Alanna is interesting. I like her.”

  
“So magically you are on first name basis.”

  
Hawke laughed. “Unlike you, storyteller, I don’t have nicknames for everyone. Inquisitor makes my mouth feel sour, like I should bow like some Chantry sister. And we played a very rousing game of Wicked Grace in the tavern on the dam.”

  
“I thought you were meeting Alistair and coming back?”

  
“Crestwood was a mess. Undead coming out the lake. Rift in the lake. It was a watery Hell.”

  
“Not after you visit the Fallow Mire the first time.”

  
Hawke gave him a horrified look over her cheese. “That sounds unpleasant. Let’s not go there.”

  
“You’d have to ride on the Iron Bull’s shoulders to keep from drowning.”

  
Hawke choked and gulped down a drink with tears streaming down her eyes. At Varric’s look she stuttered. “Riding the Iron Bull.” She broke off in wheezing laughter. “Oh come on, you can’t not think that’s not hilarious. Have you heard those women?”

  
“Your losing your touch, Hawke.”

  
“Yeah, yeah. My type is shorter and hairier anyway. And he has a thing for Dorian. Adoribull.” She snickered. Varric shook his head and went to drag a celebratory bottle from his desk. “Like old times?”

  
He filled their glasses. “I hope it’s better than old times. I don’t want to carry your drunk ass to another room only to shut the door. Also, I was an ass in the old times.”

  
Her eyes crinkled above the edge of her glass. “Only once really. Friendship returned quickly once I threw that dress in the harbor.”

  
“Did you really?”

  
She nodded. “I haven’t worn a dress since. I made enough rash decisions in it to never repeat the process.”

  
“Black and red silk suited you, Hawke.”

  
“Storyteller.”

  
“I regretted that morning every time I saw you in that dress.”

  
“And more so when you had to send someone to beat on Isabela’s door, I imagine.” She smirked.

  
“You’re lucky that didn’t end up in the book.”

  
“Oh, plot twist of writer’s revenge.” They chuckled and finished their drinks. She rolled her shoulders. “You know someone is going to have to give me a map this place. Or I will never find this room again.”

  
Varric stood and pulled her against him. “Or we could never leave it.” He kissed her slowly, kneading the tension from her lower back that she always carried.

  
She broke it with a sigh. “Duties, remember? Inquisition? World ending? Asshole Darkspawn? Grey Wardens missing?”

  
“Not until morning then.” He scooped her up and carried her back to bed.


	10. Adamant Part 1

“One of us has to stay.” Hawke said grimly, glancing at Alistair who nodded.

  
“Go, Champion.”

  
“Alistair, someone will need to help the Wardens”

  
“You can do it; Bethany can come back and help you.”

  
“Go. Alistair. If one of us could fight their way out of the Fade, we both know it's me. There are rifts not far from here I can get through. Now go!”

  
Alistair nodded and took off for the rift. Alanna and Cassandra stayed back with Hawke, covering the others. “Varric is going to kill us. He went first thinking you were right behind him.”

  
Hawke met Cassandra’s gaze, tears beginning to stream down her face. "Tell him" her voice cracked. "we were my favorite story."

  
Cassandra nodded and made her dash to the rift. "Come on, Inquisitor!"

  
“Right behind you, Cassandra.” But as soon as Cassandra was through, she closed the rift.

  
“What are you doing?” Hawke angrily swiped the tears from her eyes to glare at her friend.

  
“Not leaving my new best friend in hell. Come on,” Alanna grinned viciously. “We have an asshole to kill.”

  
It took what felt like hours. Hawke was able to do major damage sneaking in with her daggers, leaving gaping holes in Nightmare. When an attack was coming from behind her or she was engaged, Alanna would toss up an ice wall to block it from where she was at a distance. She was taking great joy in puncturing the monster's eyes with ice bolts. Eventually Nightmare collapsed to the ground. The two women stood before it, watching its blood ooze. Hawke's left arm was broken, her right leg was causing her to limp, and cuts covered her exposed flesh. Alanna had cuts crossing both her arms from resorting to blood magic and some burns from when a flailing limb knocked a bowl of fire on her.  
"You two failures. Your loved ones will perish. It will be all your fault." The women exchanged a look and then they each drove a weapon into Nightmare's brain, silencing his foul words in a blast of blood that coated them both.

  
"Knight enchanter?"

  
"Just started learning."

  
Hawke braced her hands wincingly on her knees. "Healing or storm would almost be more appreciated right now. This goo is going to make me sick."

  
Alanna laughed extending her hand to Hawke who gripped it tight as she straightened. "We make a good team though. The elven frost mage and the crazy rogue lady."

  
"The world better watch out with us working together." Hawke said joining in her laughter. She sobered quickly. "Speaking of world, how the hell do we get back?"

  
"I've never opened a rift from this side before."

  
Hawke just stared at her, blank faced. "I thought the Inquisitor had a habit of wandering the Fade in physical form."

  
"Only twice now."

  
"Which is twice more than most of the world. I would rather like to get back to the world and get the Varric yelling at me part over sooner than later. And then a very hot bath."

Alanna nodded. "Blackwall is going to chew my ass too. They are probably plotting together as we speak."

  
"Hey, I'm supposed to be the funny one." Hawke scowled before her face brightened. "All that beard and all that chest hair brooding though. That's going to cause Broody to have competition."

  
"Broody?"

  
"I'll explain Broody later. He would have been handy though. That whole lyrium fist through a chest cavity would have come in handy." Hawke chuckled. "Handy. He he. Rift, please. Blood loss is affecting my brain."

  
"You didn't have to cut for me."

  
"Ha. And have you pass out on the ground from blood loss? That would have us even more fucked. Besides, I did it for Merrill all the time and never suffered ill effects."

  
Alanna extended her hand willing a rift to open. There was a green stutter before flickering out. "That's new." Hawke just stared at her. "Apparently I need to recharge a bit before I can open one." She winced at the look on Hawke's face and then again when Hawke let loose every expletive she knew.

  
Finally, her torrent ended. "How many are left in the Western Approach?"

  
"None. I closed them all. Just in case."

  
Hawke ran her hands through her hair, froze when she touched the congealing demon blood in it and shook them, cursing some more. She flung herself on to the stone stair and waved Alanna down beside her. "Then we wait for you to recover your mojo."

  
"What shall we do as we wait?" Alanna asked gingerly sitting beside her.

  
Hawke looked at her sideways. "Any chance you saved back a healing potion? I could use a painkiller right now. But my arm will have to be set." Alanna shook her head apologetically. "Alright. Stories then."

  
"I imagine you have some great ones."

  
Hawke waved her good hand. "About you. Everyone knows my story anymore. Or at least some version of it. Varric's better at it anyway. I want to know how Alanna the frost blood mage, apprentice to the Keeper of Clan Lavellan, ended up at the Conclave. For starters."

  
"You know I was apprenticed to my Keeper?"

  
Hawke gave her a lopsided grin. "Merrill is Dalish, also a blood mage, and will talk your ear off about the Dalish if you ask her too. Although her clan thought very low of her decisions."

  
Alanna nodded and leaned back against the step. "Well, I was sent to spy actually. We figured whatever happened at the Conclave would affect us all. And maybe our clan more so, we had been taking in mages who were fleeing the war and from Kirkwall."

  
"Ah ha! I knew your name was familiar. Anders thought highly of you."

  
"I appreciate his words of praise then. He was an interesting man."

  
"That is one way to put it." Both women chuckled, thinking of their mutual possessed friend. "Alright, you and Beardy. The Not Warden."

  
"What about us?"

  
"Oh don't go all prim and proper on me. We are covered in monster gore. We all know you two fuck in the barn. Those poor horses. And Master Dennet! I've spent numerous nights with a Rivaini pirate queen but I have never gotten hay up my ass."

  
Alanna snorted. "He tosses down a blanket first."

  
Hawke gaped and then roared with laughter. "So a true gentleman then? Not so bad I guess." Hawke winced, cutting her mirth short. “I may need to borrow part of that stable when we get back.”

  
“You agreed to stay knowing there was little chance of you returning to him.”

  
Hawke nodded, taking a gulp of air against the burning tears threatening her eyes. “I was hoping you left a rift open. But no, if anyone was expendable, it was me. No one needs the Champion right now. The Wardens need Alistair. The Hero of Ferelden trusts him. Me? I am the nutcase that started a war and rubbed the Chantry’s nose all up in it. She would probably shoot me on sight. Everything she fixed, went right back into chaos starting behind the chains of Kirkwall.”

  
Alanna slung an arm around her shoulders. “She would applaud you. Do you know how she got into the Wardens?” She continued when Hawke shook her head. “She was kidnapped with several other elven women from her own wedding by the Arl of Denerim’s son and his cronies. She saved the other girls before much damage was done. She killed the humans like the dogs they were.”

  
Hawke stared at her blinking. “You know; I think all three of us need to take over the world. We would fix it in a breath. All would cower before us. Instead of a darkspawn lord, they could have queens. Not dark but beautiful as the dawn. Tempestuous as the seas and stronger than the foundations of the earth. They would love us, but oh, would they despair.”

  
Alanna chuckled. “I understand what Varric sees in you. You are a good match.” The two women sit in companionable silence for a while before Alanna prompted Hawke. “So, Broody?”

  
Hawke shakes her head. “Broody. Broody is actually Fenris. He was a Tevinter slave to a Magister Danarious. That piece of work coated him in lyrium tattoos that gave him unique powers, like shoving his hand into a person’s chest and ripping their heart out. It was pretty cool. But he hates mages and is a rank pain the ass about it. I tend to leave him at home unless I was dealing with slavers. I couldn’t have this brooding, hulking elf that glows in the dark terrifying mage kids who are already scared witless.”

  
“Hulking and elf in the same sentence. That is a new one.”

  
Hawke cocked an eyebrow. “He preferred two handed swords. He glowed. He glowered. He hulked.” Both women chuckled.

  
Alanna rose to her feet and offered a hand up to Hawke who groaned as she stood. “I think I can manage our rift now.”

  
“I am so excited for a bath. I hate blood.”

  
“Ready?”

  
“So ready.”

  
Alanna ripped open a portal of green freedom and the two women hobbled through leaning on each other. They came out in Adamant but everyone was so concerned with the argument occurring they remained unnoticed.

  
"You left them both in the Fade?" Varric asked, temper rolling beneath the surface of his voice. “Hadn’t you people done enough to Hawke? And to the Inquisitor for that matter?”

  
"The Inquisitor was right behind me! I didn't know she was going to stay." Cassandra threw up her hands in exasperation. "As for Hawke, she elected to stay and cover us. She wanted me to tell you that the two of you were her favorite story." Her voice softened while she stared at the ground, unwilling to meet Varric’s eyes.

  
Varric's mouth hung open momentarily before snapping shut. Blackwall gave the dwarf a glance before taking up the tirade. "We've managed to lose both the Inquisitor and the Champion and you want us to just stand here instead of searching for a rift, going back in, and finding them."

  
Hawke and Alanna stumbled up the steps beside them. "You won't get rid of us that easy." Hawke managed a chuckle before crumpling to the ground, dragging Alanna with her. “Okay, maybe just not the Inquisitor. Ow.”

  
"Hawke!" Varric and Blackwall dropped their argument with Cassandra to grab their respective lady. Blackwall was all hugs and murmurs while cradling Alanna off to a healer. Hawke found herself staring down the angriest dwarf in Thedas while stuck on her knees in the sand.

  
"Your face might freeze that way." Grin turned into grimace as she realized she needed to add broken ribs to her list of maladies.

  
"Give me one good reason as to why I shouldn't leave you there."

  
"Because I am a delicate flower that needs pampering."

  
"So help me, Hawke. You sent me out thinking you were right behind me. You sent Cassandra out expecting to never return. One more joke, and I will have the Carta drag your ass home to Kirkwall and chain you to a staircase in your empty mansion."

  
Hawke winced at the pain in his voice. "I had every intention of finding my way out. The Wardens need Alistair to set them straight."

  
"And that's why you told Cassandra to tell me we were your favorite story."

  
She felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. "Just in case. But I seem to always find my way back to you. It's the only magic I have."

  
"Damn it, Hawke. Don’t pull that on me. You are not getting out this."

  
Cassandra interjected. "She needs to go to a healer, Varric, if you are done yelling at her."

  
"I'm not done yelling at you either, Seeker." Varric scooped Hawke up. She gave Cassandra an appreciative grimace and settled her head into his shoulder wincing.

  
“You know; I am developing an appreciation for being the shortest woman in Thedas. This is nice, but I also really hope the healer’s tent isn’t far. The world is blurry. Again.”  
Varric huffed. “Don’t make me laugh or I’ll drop you. Didn’t Anders tell you no more blows to the head?”

  
“Not a single blow to the head. Did you know the Inquisitor practices blood magic? She is more squeamish about it then Daisy though. She’s more squeamish about it then I am. And I hate blood. It gets in every nook and cranny and stinks.”

  
Varric shook his head and ducked into the healer’s tent. Blackwall and the healer already had Alanna mostly bandaged up. The other woman perked up considerably upon seeing her friends. “I’m glad you left her one piece, Varric. She needs a medal or some official Inquisition title.”

  
Hawke hissed as he settled her on the cot and the healer began fussing over her. “Champion of the Inquisition is fine. I can just add the and Inquisition to all my letters.”

  
The healer spoke softly to her apprentice who took off to get supplies. “Lady Inquisitor you can go to your own tent and get something to eat and rest. Take it easy, you used a lot of magic and those burns will sting for a few days.” She glanced down at Hawke. “And you don’t want to witness me putting this woman back together.”

  
Hawke’s eyes rounded slightly before letting her head fall back. “Fuck me.”

  
Alanna laughed. “There’s no hay here but that can be arranged.” Blackwall escorted her out with only a questioning glance to Varric.

  
“Do I even want to know what that was about?”

  
Hawke waved it off with her good hand. “We were discussing you two and the differences between glorious chest hair and all that beard. It was a good talk. I should have made a bet on you two out brooding Broody.”

  
The healer and her apprentice, supplies piled, returned cutting off Varric’s reply. “I need to set that arm. And I am sorry but I can’t put you to sleep or offer you you anything with all that blood loss.” Hawke nodded grimly. “On a good note, there is only a slight crack, the worst part is you dislocated it.”

  
“Oh that’s not so ba-“Hawke hissed as the woman rearranged her arm.

  
She nodded to her apprentice. “Grab her shoulder. Ser Tethras, you may want to help hold her down.”

  
The screech that left Hawke was blessedly short. Tears welled out of her eyes while she took shuttering breaths. Varric’s hands left her body and wrapped her good hand in them.

  
“A little warmth to heal the crack and the bigger cuts on you.” The healer moved her hands across Hawke’s body.

  
“Andraste’s flaming ass.” Hawke hissed. “Woman, there is a difference between warmth and tossing me into an inferno.”

  
“You have too much blood loss for all these little cuts.”

  
“The healer said sarcastically. Ow. Did you have to pinch me?” Hawke scowled at Varric who just stared back at her until she huffed and broke their gaze.

  
The healer gestured to Varric. “Help me get this sad excuse for armor off.”

  
“It’s leather, it moves and breathes. And it doesn’t make me clunk.” Hawke breathed a sigh of relief when the chest piece came off. “Air.”

  
“That’s what I thought.” The healer said after cutting the tunic away.

  
Hawke glanced down her body. “Oh Maker’s balls, how did that happen?”

  
The healer shook her head. “You were there, you tell me.” The silence only lasted a moment before the healer grunted in effort removing a fang from Hawke’s side, making the woman curse.

  
“I will have to find someone to look at this. I will return shortly.” The healer left her apprentice with them who mopped some of the worst gore from Hawke before Varric took over from her.

  
He steadily and silently worked the rag across her face and then down her arms. After several moments Hawke could no longer take the quiet. “Please don’t be mad. Or describing my innards in your next book.”

  
Varric sighed. “I have watched you make a lot of stupid decisions, Hawke. But this one has hurt the most.”

  
She grabbed his hand. “I am sorry, Varric. Helping people and killing people are what I am best at. I’m tired of both. The Grey Wardens need Alistair. He is their last ranking official, minus the Hero of Ferelden who is missing. The Inquisition has Alanna. No one needs the Champion now.”

  
“But I do.”

  
“Do you need the Champion or the woman behind it more?”

  
“Andraste’s tits, Hawke. Both. You are one and the same. The Champion wouldn’t exist if you weren’t who you were.”

  
Hawke’s eyes fluttered shut and she struggled to reopen them. “I am sorry, Varric. It’s not because I wanted to. I’m glad to be here. Even with you yelling at me.”

  
“I don’t yell.” He scowled.

  
“Mmm. You yell, storyteller, just not like a normal person.” Her eyes fluttered shut again and didn’t reopen. Her breathing was steady so Varric let her sleep.

  
Closer to nightfall she still hadn’t woken and was feverish. The healer checked the wound in her stomach, a putrid black hole against her skin. She shook her head. “She won’t make it to morning. There is nothing more I can do. I’ll make sure you aren’t disturbed.”

  
Varric would never tell anyone that he cried over her still body, regretting so many decisions he had made and making every plea to the Maker that he thought he might hear. If he wouldn’t hear a human, why would he listen to a child of the Stone? The tears soaked her shirt before he was as dry as the desert around them. Then he waited.


	11. Adamant Part 2

Cole seemingly materialized in the tent carrying cool rags. "Burning fires. Again. So many screams, I told her I was sorry. Not ready to face him yet... not ready why I couldn't I save him? It should have been me. But would he have saved them? Such little children facing his hate." He looks thoughtful. "Who is she talking about, Varric? He's blurry."

  
"Carver, her brother. He died saving them when they were running from the Blight. They didn't see eye to eye on anything, but especially on Sunshine being an apostate."

  
"It causes her a lot of pain." Cole began placing the rags on her forehead. It eased some of the tightness in her face but she still didn't wake up.

  
"I know, kid."

  
"She thinks about you. There's only a little pain thinking about that now. Not like before. She asked me to not say what she thinks, that it needs time to be real. You make her warm but not like fire, like the sun when she would lay out on the deck and dream."

  
Varric smiled softly. "That explains the new freckles."

  
"Why don't you tell her? You think it so loudly, it's like you're shouting."

  
"Not now, kid."

  
"Your voices are quiet."

  
"Some stories I don't want to write."

  
There was a scuffle outside the tent followed by Tevene swearing. "If you weren't the only fire mage here, I wouldn't have woken you, delicate flower." Alanna and Dorian stepped into the tent.

  
"I'm not a healer and I prefer something cat like for my grace. Botany isn't a strong point."

  
"I don't need you to heal." Alanna nodded at Cole and Varric. "I need you to burn."

  
"Some quaint southern tradition of burning someone before they are dead?"

  
Alanna snorted and peeled back the dressing on Hawke's side. "The healer brought me that fang while I was sleeping. The poison gland was inside it and still pumping. And to boot it had a lingering presence."

  
"Poison and possession? That does sound like something Hawke would bring home." Varric's tone became serious. "Can you help her?"

  
Alanna nodded. "It’s not an outright possession. It’s kind of like making a worry doll, stabbing it repeatedly, and discovering it works. We had something similar happen once when my clan was far to the north near Tevinter." She hissed when she pulled up the last of the dressing, black ooze pooling across Hawke's navel. "It wasn't this bad. Dorian, I want you on my right. Cole, stay at her head with the rags. Varric, if she starts coming to before I'm done you're going to have to hold her down."

  
"How do we start, my friend?"

  
"I'll pull out the poison by freezing it, I want you to burn it off as I drag it out of her."

  
"Owch, speaking for all of us."

  
"Yes. It will hurt. If I could do it a different way I would."

  
"And if she's possessed?" Dorian asked, mustache twitching.

  
Alanna's smile was feral, her teeth sharpening in the low light. "Then I will add a few more scars to rip it out and banish it. Let's begin."

  
Alanna pulled the poison out in a black mist, that Dorian carefully burned it away. It went on for hours and the mages began to tire but drank the last of the lyrium stores to keep going. Hawke never stirred.

  
Cole spoke. "It's getting dark, so dark I'm dying after all this it’s just dark this isn't what I want. I need to tell him -."

  
"Kid-"

  
Alanna cut him off. "No. Cole, keep telling me where she is." At the look on Varric's face, she softened. "Only what's necessary."

  
"Dorian, can you bind her soul? Temporarily?"

  
"In theory "

  
"Do your work, death walker"

  
Purple light radiated from his hand and then spiraled down to Hawke. Dorian smiled. "She's fighting me."

  
"Good." Alanna continued pulling the poison from the wound in a black mist, gathering it into a crystal so Dorian could concentrate on holding Hawke's spirit to her flesh.

  
Cole sighed. "It's darker" at the same time Dorian said "She's weakening."

  
"Cole, can you put something into her head? An image. Give her something to fight for. Varric fell in a well."

  
Varric gave a mirthless chuckle, knuckles white around Hawke’s hand, and sighed. "Little girl. Curly brown hair, she was in a cage to be sold, red dress and a cut across her cheek."

  
Cole closed his eyes concentrating. "Brown eyes?"

  
Varric nodded, mind far away momentarily, and at the look on Alanna's face continued. "The slaver tried to use the girl as an escape, him or the girl. Hawke threw herself between the girl and the slaver’s fire. The last thing that mage saw was Hawke coming at him through the flames and her daggers ripping through his chest. The girl almost didn't make it. But Hawke will always throw herself in front of someone who can't defend themselves. I don't think she sees me as defenseless."

  
Cole gave a sharp gasp. "No. Not again. Not this fucking time… It hurts her to see them hurt."

  
Hawke began thrashing weakly. "Hold her, I've almost got it." A form pulled up in the mist.

  
"It's not a spirit that I know." said Cole

  
"Not likely." Alanna focused her icy glare on the wisp before her. "Be gone."

  
The wisp swirled but settled back above Hawke. "Fuck. I need blood." Alanna dug blindly for her knife, focus alone holding the wisp.

Varric grabbed her hand before she drug the tip across her flesh. "I'm the only one not working. And I'm willing to shed some blood for her."

  
Alanna nodded and sparked the tip across his forearm. she drew the blood to her and inhaled deeply before swirling it in to her spell. She flung it at the wisp, ice and blood binding it before ripping it apart. Hawke's body stilled and they all held their breath.

  
"What doesn't hurt?" Cole said as she gasped for air. He turned to pointedly look at Varric. "You are screaming it again."

  
Alanna held her hand up to Dorian. "Go us. Who needs a healer when you have fire and ice?"

  
"Highest of fives. But don't forget the blood and necromancy. I can feel Vivienne being appalled from here."

  
Alanna cackled and waved him off. "Tell Blackwall I'll be back soon when you go past my tent, please? I'm sure he's awake and worried by now."

  
"Of course, I'll alert the peasant. I just so love watching him sneer." Alanna shook her head, smiling, as he left the tent with a flourish.

  
"Do you need anything, Varric? How's your arm?"

  
"Fine." He said waving her off. "When will she wake up?"

  
Cole answered. "Soon. She's dreaming. Warmth and wind, he smells like paper, ink, and home." He vanished, smiling.

  
Alanna grinned. "I'll take that as my cue. Get some rest. She'll be fine now." She reached across Hawke to lay her hand on his shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze. "She's suffered enough. If you have to drag her to Kirkwall and chain her to a post somewhere safe, then do it. But I'd miss you both."

  
"I don't think it will come to that." Varric gave her a tired smile. "Thank you, for everything."

  
Alanna paused at the tent flap and looked back at him. "I second Cole by the way. You should tell her."

Varric dozed off and on the rest of the night. At dawn, Hawke's eyes fluttered open. She didn't remember the sun being so bright and she wanted to know why the air tasted like dirt. Eventually her eyes focused on the slumped form beside her. She tentatively squeezed his hands that were still wrapped around her good one."Varric?"

  
He blinked awake quickly. "Hawke!" He leaned forward, smoothing her tangled hair back from her face before leaning his forehead against hers. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

  
"I feel worse than when the dragon fell on me. And thirsty."

  
Varric grabbed the pitcher and glass from the healer’s table before helping her sit. Hawke winced and hissed but drank the whole glass. "Why do I feel like my insides are frozen?"

  
"Alanna used some frost magic and some other weird shit with Sparkler." He knelt in the sand before her taking her hands again. "Hawke, I need to tell-."

  
She placed a single finger on his lips, smiling. "It can wait. Shut up and kiss me." Varric chuckled and softly did just that, his tears mixing with hers.


	12. Dreams and L Words

"I had the strangest dream when we were at Adamant. When I was stuck in the healer's tent."

They were having a lazy naked morning in bed. They had all just gotten back from the Western Approach late the night before, not even the hardworking Inquisitor would be up before noon. A day off was something the advisors recommended for everyone.  
Hawke was still sore and had new scars to show for her time in the Fade but the almost month on the road had brought her healing and unexpected peace. She was propped up on an elbow leaning against him while he twirled one of her curls. "And just what was it about?"

  
She blushed and stuttered. "I, it's silly. You know what? Forget I mentioned it."

  
"Oh come on, Hawke. That's mean." She shook her head and he proceeded to pin her to the bed, tickling down her sides and behind her knees until she was shrieking and her halfhearted attempts to escape came dangerously close to knocking him in the head.

  
"I give!" She cried breathlessly. The late morning light danced across her skin, flickering her blue eyes with gold.

  
"You know how beautiful you are?"

  
She shook her head at him. "Storyteller."

  
"Why do I sometimes think that is one step up from liar?"

  
She gave a not so delicate snort. "Maybe because my looks are one of the things prone to your extravagant lies."

  
"You don't mean that."

  
"I do." She sat up letting the sheet pool around her. "I have curves where no decent woman should have them even with all the hero crap I do. My hair is reminiscent of mud. My eyes are boring blue. I am covered in these little fucks." She angrily tapped a freckle. "And I'm short. The shortest human in all of Thedas. But not the roundest, although to be honest it is noticeable that I might like frilly cakes more than Chuckles." She looked down at herself and sighed before poking her new scar that twisted over half her abdomen. "I'm scarred and twisted. And I have no idea how you call that beautiful. You're the only one to call me beautiful. Ever."

  
"I'm sure your parents would agree with me."

  
Hawke shook her head and did a perfect imitation of her mother. "Bethany is the pretty one, Carver is going to grow up to be a hero with the Templars, and you are going to be the one we are constantly getting out of jail for stealing and trespassing." She dropped back to her own voice. "Never mind my shortcomings kept her from starving. The only time I've been in a jail was that lovely encounter the Asshole of All Darkspawn."

  
He leaned forward and kissed her gently. "Do you want to know what I see?" She bit her lip and nodded, holding his gaze. "Curves that I have mapped in my mind because I never want to forget them. Your hair is the exact same shade as that chocolate you love so much except when the sun hits it, shooting it through with gold. Your eyes are like the ocean." he kissed her again. "Except for when we are making love, they turn midnight blue and sparkle like a thousand stars. And as for these little fucks, "he said tapping her freckled nose. "I find them adorable. One day I may not get so distracted by your eyes that I will count them." He had to convince himself that her eyes were not getting wet but opened his arms for her to snuggle into him. He kissed the top of her head. "Your scars tell stories, some that even I don't know. And they mean you lived." He paused in mock hard thought before adding. "I can't say anything about you being the shortest woman in Thedas other then I thank the Maker for it. Can you imagine the crick in my neck id get if you were as tall as Cassandra?"

  
Hawke snorted into his chest. "And you were doing so good with all the sweet."

  
Varric tapped a finger under her chin until she looked at him. "You are beautiful. Don't ever forget it. I wouldn't change a thing about you. Not even the fool hardy save the world part."

  
She gave him a soft kiss before grinning wickedly. "But did I hear correctly, storyteller, that you said making love? We haven't had that discussion. It's still kinky fucking."  
Varric chuckled. "You can call it whatever you want then."

  
She got up on her knees and narrowed her eyes. "Nooo, I am very interested in that L word."

  
"Luck? That you're pushing."

  
She wrinkled her nose. "Fine!" And flopped down on the bed beside him. He eyed her warily, waiting for something to happen but she stared pointedly at the ceiling.  
"Finding cracks for Ruffles up there?"

  
"None big enough."

  
"Really, you're going to be upset?"

  
"No," she glanced at him. "I'm being manipulative."

  
"You're doing a terrible job. Maybe it's the scowling."

  
Her face softened. "This feels too close to fighting. It's not worth it. L word or not."

  
"Hey." He kissed her gently before wrapping his arms around her. "Not fighting, no one has cried or thrown something. Or talked about tradition."

  
Hawke snorted. "Storyteller." She snuggled into him, her hard back to his soft stomach. "Since we aren't going to discuss that word, and you aren't looking at me, I'll tell you about that dream. Parts of it anyway."

  
She paused and readjusted her still sore arm. "A little girl, like that one with the slaver. She was holding her arms up to me, telling me I needed to stay for her, to keep her safe from bad things she couldn't see. If I didn't stay, then she would never be." He could hear her popping her lip against her teeth. "She had your eyes though, not the green that girl had. And my hair. Her necklace had the Kirkwall heraldry on it, like the one I gave Beth."

  
He kissed the top of her head, lost for words. Cole had asked if it was brown eyes, he didn't remember if he agreed or not. At the time, he didn't care as long as Hawke lived. Apparently he needed to have a talk with the kid.

  
"There was another voice too. Saying its real." She rolled over to stare at him. She gave a little sigh. "You know, sometimes when I say storyteller, I mean I love you."  
Varric tightened his arms around her. "Only if you want it to mean that."

  
She smirked. "Only if you meant it when you said making love."

  
He rolled them over and kissed her soundly until they were both out of breath. Forehead to hers, "I mean it. I love you, Hawke."

  
She smiled up at him, eyes warm and shining. "Storyteller."

 

 


	13. How A Nightingale Plans a Dress

Leliana approached Varric as he was watching Hawke spar with Cassandra in the early morning light. "You two are quite the pair." He glanced up at the spymaster. "All of Skyhold is chatting about it. Josie is having to work very hard at keeping within the walls."

  
"Have either of you four talked to Hawke about your little plan?"

  
"Actually I was hoping to enlist you for it."

  
Varric crossed his arms and leaned against the door. "There are a great many things I would happily do for the Inquisition. Stuffing Hawke into a dress and having her wander the Winter Palace as bait is not one of them. She does bite."

  
Leliana chuckled. "I figured as much. But Josie and I have come up with her dress and wanted your opinion as to whether she would like it. We only have so much time."  
She handed him the sketch of the dress. The skirt was miles of black fluff with red roses scattered across it. If she wore a rigid hoop skirt no one would be able to get within 5 feet of her. The likelihood of Hawke agreeing to that was slim but the top drew his attention. A dark red corset topped it off, dipping low in the front and almost entirely backless except for the black ribbon that would crisscross almost to the dimples right above her butt.

  
Varric swallowed hard. "Once she gets over the skirt being that big, I think she will be quite happy as long as she can get to her blades."

  
Leliana took the sketch back. "Oh she will be able to get to them. That skirt is barely opaque in person, the less fabric she would have to dig through the better. What about shoes?"

  
Varric shook his head. "Boots. Or she will throw them into the first fountain she sees."

  
"Boots with a heel at least?"

  
"Flat." He was gazing back out at her in the ring, trying to imagine her in that dress and failing because an older dress kept sneaking into his mind. One that hugged all her curves before flaring slightly at the hips and a top that dipped so low he could have-.

  
Leliana gave an exasperated sigh. "Nice shoes to be had and she wouldn't even consider them."

  
"If you tweak that skirt some I will make sure the nicest shoes in Thedas make their way to your desk."

  
Leliana perked up. "Hug it tighter and bring the skirt lower on the hips. Red silk all the way to the floor instead of the tulle? And shoulders to lengthen that deep v."

  
Varric nodded. "You read my mind. You get her in it and I'll manage two pairs. And a bottle of wine."

  
Leliana grinned mischievously. "I do like a good bargain, Messere Tethras."

  
She walked off as Hawke bound up the steps. "Shouldn’t you be working, Storyteller? Were you watching the whole time?"

  
"Most of it. You are still leaving openings."

  
Hawke snorted, leaning against her knees. "That's half the fun. And I can't strap a shield to my head, which I am sure you would prefer. What did the Raven Mistress want?"  
"She has a name, you know."

  
"Oh that's good, coming from you. Spymaster is too formal and she is too scary to just call Leliana. That makes her sound like a sweet little flower. Except she can tear your arm off and kill you with it. While smiling."

  
"Discussing the Winter Palace could make anyone do that."

  
Hawke wrinkled her nose. "Ugh. All those Orlesians. I'm glad I don't have to go. Ha, my turn again. Get some work done before I run out of people to bruise, storyteller. I have plans for you this afternoon." She gave him a wink and quick kiss before heading back down the steps. The limp she gained in Adamant was finally adjusted into her stride; from here you couldn't tell she had almost died.

  
Varric stayed silent as he watched her bound off to her next victim in the ring, smile plastered across her face. If he knew Ruffles, her plans were going to be in as many pieces as the hearts of all those boys she was beating up in the ring. Only Ruffles knew what she was doing and Hawke didn't have a clue to the kind of power she had.


	14. Roses

Back in their room for the night, Hawke was perched on his desk, in his shirt, scribbling out a list of supplies she wanted. "It looks like a damn cake topper for some frumped up, noble wedding. I don't even like Orlais! Yeah, chaos if her empress ass dies but that's why there are heirs. Let them figure it out."

  
"It takes a rogue to catch assassins, you know." He said from his chair, not even glancing up from his book.

  
"But they don't want me to be me! They want me to simper and dance with all those creepy, masked weirdos." She shook the quill at him. "Do you know what those assholes do to their servants? Diabolical. Feed them to Corphytits's dragon."

  
"So, why are you really mad?" He put the book on the table and opened his arms.

  
She hopped off the desk and flung herself into his lap before tucking her head under his chin. "It's fluffy. It's a dress. I was able to talk them out of the feathers. Oh, the boots are divine. All black soft leather and the heraldry in red. But all four of those evil women ganged up on me to be bait and didn't even ask. They assumed."

  
"Would you have said no?"

  
She stuck her lip out. "Not the point."

  
He hugged her. "Then just enjoy the night. I'm sure you and Buttercup can find some nonviolent ways to cause some chaos while the Inquisitor works."

  
She was thoughtful for a time. "What if I stole their masks after each dance? I could call them trophies." She cackled a little too gleefully. "Toss them in the punch bowls. Or whatever they drink there. Oh. Or mount them in the Great Hall here. Alanna would just love that."

  
Varric laughed and kissed her. "You're not right."

  
They sit quietly for a time watching the fire that blazes eternally in this cold snow castle, the only thing holding their dreams of the future.

  
Hawke sighs. "I did demand another compromise. They wanted me to flirt information out of everyone I could. I know they've been silencing everything about us that leaves these walls so the Champion of Kirkwall can be a belle of the ball. Cassandra ended up taking my side. I will be charming and gracious. But I don't play that game. It would be wrong now." She looked up at him, eyes soft and face shadowed with a few days’ worth of beard and she glanced back down quickly. "And don't you dare start some lecture on responsibility and saving the world. I can do that without kissing things that aren't you."

  
"And here I thought you were going to be sweet."

  
"I was sort of sweet. I thought about it anyway. I have to keep you on your toes you know." Her eyes slightly crossed. "What I want to know is how they knew about the red roses. My grandmother's house burned down when I was 6. That area was destroyed by the Blight. The whole thing. There's nothing left but bones and rocks."

  
"You went there."

  
"Well. Yeah. Isabela dropped me off at Denerim and I may have taken a detour on my way to Skyhold. It's not like I went to Ostagar." She looked up at him through her lashes, lip tugged between her teeth before grinning. "But I lived, Dad. It's all fine."

  
"And now you made it weird."

  
Hawke chuckled. "You don't have to worry about me so much. Tough stuff went into this girl."

  
"I wouldn't call it tough. Velvety and firm maybe." Hawke snorted before dissolving into a fit of laughter that almost spilled her out of his lap. "Just be careful wandering around Darkspawn. Lothering still isn't safe. And you don't need to awaken anymore magisters; we are still trying to clean up that mess."

  
Hawke's eyes narrowed. "You." She stabbed a finger into his chest. "You told them about the roses."

  
Varric smiled. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

  
"Storyteller."

  
"Menace. I guess I will have to make up for what I didn't do."

  
She straddled his lap. "I can think of a way." Varric chuckled before she cut it off with a searing kiss, twining her fingers through his still damp hair. "You need to wear your hair down more. It's more fun."

  
"People already can't resist the chest hair, let's not kill them."

  
Hawke quirked an eyebrow. "That depends on who it is."

  
"You're terrible."

  
She shook her head. "Terrible was me and Sera convincing that noble that the reason Solas is bald is because your dwarfiness absorbed all his hair so your chest hair would be the most magnificent in Thedas."

  
At the look on his face she laughed. "He believed us! Not my fault he's dumb!"

  
"And when one of them comes asking how I do it, I'm going to tell them you dangle above people's beds and scare it off them."

  
She smirked. "Aw, I love you too. I’ll remember that the next time I dangle off your bedpost."

  
Varric snorted. "We need to get you some clothes that aren't mine or your armor." He traced the neckline of his shirt down her body.

  
She shivered under his touch, eyes darkening. "Wouldn't you miss this?"

  
He kissed her, hands sliding down to her hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs. She nipped his lower lip. "I would. But I'm running out of shirts."

  
"Well since you were in cahoots on that dress, you can buy the new clothes to spare your shirts."

  
His brown eyes flashed before giving her a devilish grin. "I could save quite a bit on that then. I like it best when you’re naked."

  
Hawke chuckled. "Storyteller."


	15. Dance Lessons

Hawke was curled cross-legged in the chair sipping chocolate instead of eating real food for lunch. At his questioning look, she sighed. "I have dance lessons after lunch. I may not have to worry about stomping people's toes, but they might as well be teaching a lizard."

  
Varric chuckled. "I've seen you dance; you are very good."

  
Hawke snorted. "That kind is not supposed to be done in polite company. Can you imagine how all those blowhards would react if I broke out some of the I learned this from a pirate moves? They would be so scandalized, we could drop a dragon on them and they wouldn't notice."

  
"The Hanged Man is such polite company."

  
"Politer then Orlesians." She looked at him, speculative gleam in her eyes. "Do you have to take dance lessons?"

  
"No, this dwarf is safe from such embarrassment. My job is to stand there and be the famous author. And I have work to do this afternoon. Ruffles can't handle all the merchants. And she likes letting me handle the less noble ones because they make faces at her."

  
She sighed. "That's too bad. It would be fun to dance with you." She unfolded herself from the chair and leaned over his desk to kiss him. "I'll see you later, storyteller."

 

  
Later that afternoon she returned to their room a little bruised. "I'm glad Josie is giving us all time off from the noble appeasing dinners. I want to eat in the bath."  
"It can't have been that bad."

  
She flopped into his lap before the fire. "Did you know they decided to teach everyone who wants to learn that's going? Every guard that's read The Tale of The Champion wanted a dance. I don't know where they are finding these recruits, but they need smaller feet. I am purple from the knees down."

  
Varric chuckled. "Did you learn anything?"

  
"Oh yes." Hawke's eyes gleamed. "Iron Bull wanted to know how I felt about you fingering your ex-girlfriend’s trigger." Varric groaned. "It was so good I almost fell laughing. He can pick me up with one hand! Which led to me, Bull, and Harding discussing all the mayhem we could cause. He could toss us both at once! And Sera could sit on his shoulders to fire arrows. The Inquisition wouldn't need an army anymore. Corphytits would run in fear at the sight of us."

  
"You make me feel like that often enough. You don't need help."

  
Hawke smacked his chest lightly before curling her fingers through his chest hair. "Bull also taught me how to swear in Qunlat. He told me I was a natural at picking it up. Dorian then taught me to swear in Tevene because those two have issues and live to outdo each other." Her eyes got wispy. "They can dance though. Too bad Orlesians are stuffy on that shit. Those guys are beautiful."

  
"You are as bad as Isabela."

  
Hawke snorted. "Is it so bad to want a world worth saving? We need more love around here and less demons. Ass deep in fucking demons, let me enjoy romance."

  
"Because quoting Blondie is romantic."

  
Hawke giggled. "You do know he tried, right? He was sweet and a great lay but Justice just really freaked me out."

  
"I think I just learned more than I ever wanted to know. Also, I may have to put a hit out on him."

  
Hawke kissed him. "That was before things between us. I didn't expect you to be the jealous type after so many years of whatever this has been." She laughed softly. "You can't kill everyone that has seen me naked."

  
Varric shook his head. "Now I really don't want to know, I may not have enough contacts to take care of them all."

  
Hawke's twinkled. "It's not nice to say a lady is a whore, storyteller."

  
"That is not what I meant-." Hawke cut him off with a kiss before breaking out laughing.

  
Varric glared at her and she grinned. "It was worth the look on your face. Although speaking of sex, how much did you tell Cassandra about Kirkwall? Sometimes she stares so hard, I wonder if she's trying to imagine or forget something."

  
"I told her everything, more or less. I left out the part about us though. And the month after you spent with Isabela breaking hearts of everyone who fell into your traps."

  
"That's probably it. She wants to know how I resisted such fine chest hair." Hawke snorted. "I don't know about the breaking hearts part though."

  
"There was a morning after club of weeping boys that met every Saturday. She also wants you to sign her copy of Tale of the Champion."

  
"She stabbed a hole through it, right? What’s left to sign?" She sighed. "I have more lessons tonight. Fancier ones. I'm glad I ordered those clothes, they told me to find a long skirt for practice. I won't have to destroy a curtain. But." She kissed him again. "That means I need to change now because I promised I would help Alanna with some things."  
She went to get out of his lap only to have him tug her back down. "Varric, I- mmm."

  
He continued kissing her neck and let his hands wander up the front of her shirt, grinning when she gasped at his light pinch. "It's more fun to change clothes if I help you undress."

  
She wiggled out of his lap and slid out of reach, shaking her head. "Helping. Dance lessons." She cocked her head to one side, mischief blooming on her cheeks. "Actually, come to dance lessons tonight and I may be easier to persuade."

  
Varric got up, chuckling, and gave her a sound kiss. "We will see, menace."

  
Hawke didn't turn up for dinner but Varric enjoyed a few games of cards with Chuckles before he decided to go find his wayward love. The tavern wasn't as packed has he had expected until Cole appeared at his shoulder.

  
"Alanna made the soldiers return to their duties. This is just for the Inner Circle, a select guard, and the Chargers. Why are they Chargers, Varric, they aren't bulls."

  
"Ask them sometime, kid." Cole nodded and melted back into the shadows.

  
Hawke was by the bar, laughing with Alanna. The elf woman gave her a playful shove. "Come on, Champion, or are you too scared to show us how a Rivaini pirate dances?"

  
Hawke snorted before stepping out on to the cleared floor spreading her arms wide. "Fine, Inquisitor. But when Blackwall turns red under all that beard and starts smoking, I don't want to hear it." Everyone laughed and Hawke motioned to the band they had set up to play.

  
They picked a simple, but sultry song that relied mostly on drums and tambourines and after a few beats Hawke found her rhythm. Her feet tapped the wooden floor while her hips swayed to the beat in exaggerated circles. When the music picked up, so did her movements, skirt flying about her, arms and hands creating intricate patterns in the air. The gathered crowd fell silent watching Hawke's body play the music.

  
Varric found himself caught in the memory of the last time he had seen her do this dance. Isabela had taken Hawke under wing when Hawke and Varric had their falling out. New clothes, new earrings, a new way to do her hair, and this dance. The two women could dance it in tandem, Hawke's black and Isabela's white outfits blurring into grey. He watched the night Hawke finally perfected it, the fire it stirred in his blood and the earth shaking realization that he had fucked up letting her go. When she had come to the end of the dance, she had raised her face and caught his eye. Her hair had been a mass of dark curls escaping the scarf she had it contained in, eyes midnight blue and shot with stars. The heat behind them scorched through his soul. He made sure anytime he heard the song he was in the shadows of the room watching, even if he hated himself after.  
This time she didn't drop to a knee in mock abjection and her eyes weren't midnight fire when she spun a circle, laughing.

  
"My lady, you will have to be somewhat disappointed. But if you wish to teach the Inquisitor that dance, you won't have any complaints from me."

  
Hawke scoffed. "You don't have my disappointment then Blackwall. I made every man cry in the Hanged Man with that dance; you have balls of steel to resist." She did an exaggerated wiggle and Alanna slapped her shoulder, laughing.

  
Alanna glanced toward where Varric was in the shadow and raised an eyebrow. Varric shook his head and she rolled her eyes. "All right, everyone, we need to actually practice or the Ambassador will send us all the Fallow Mire. Pick your partners!"

  
Leliana went around correcting posture and steps and after a few rotations of dancers about the room, he found Hawke again, with a very young and very admiring guardsman. Hawke's smile was pained and he could practically hear her teeth grinding. When the young man leaned in, Hawke would lean as far out as she could without drawing more attention.

  
When they paused near him, Varric stepped in. "The Commander needs you for a special assignment, young man."

  
The guardsman nodded. "Thank you, Messere Tethras." He turned to Hawke and bowed. "You dance like you have wings, my Lady Champion. I hope you will grace me with another flight of fancy again." And he left the tavern.

  
Hawke leaned her forehead against Varric's shoulder. "I love you."

  
Varric smiled and they took up the proper stance for whatever they were working on. "It's not often I get to save you from drooling pups."

  
Hawke's nose scrunched. "Yeah, I saw you lurking and you could have saved me sooner. It's not often I find one that doesn't under that the sentence I am always armed means leave me alone." She snorted as they started into the turn. "He actually thought I meant some strange innuendo."

  
Varric twirled her. "You have to give it to him though. His parting words were smooth."

  
Hawke rolled her eyes as he dipped her. "Oh yeah. Hawks have wings. I'll just go be breathless with excitement now. Breathlessly excited about asking Sera to do something awful to him."

  
"You've inspired flights of fancy for me."

  
"Storyteller. Everything inspires you."

  
Someone blew out some candles and the music slowed. "Not everything. Red lyrium does not inspire me to write. Shoot things, definitely."

  
"And then smash and burn it." Hawke giggled. "I do believe this is supposed to a romantic kind of dance and we are killing things."

  
He slowly twirled her this time before bringing her tight against him. "I think I can manage that, Hawke." Her eyes darkened in response. If Leliana noticed he was holding her too close, that his hand was a little low, and that he kept whispering things to her that made her flush, she said nothing.

  
The dance changed again. He dipped her low and hummed low in his throat when he brought her up. "How long does this practice last?" He twirled her around for a part where they danced with her back to his front. She felt his lips ghost along her neck and shoulder. "It's not just my words you inspire, Hawke."

  
Hawke was biting her lip when he twirled her around to face him again. She gave a breathy giggle. "It's half dark in here and we are rogues. I think it's over when we say it's over."

  
No one noticed them sneak out the back door. Or when Varric backed her against the wall in the shadows, one hand covering her mouth to stifle her moans while he worked her with his other hand. She came down off her high, a playful smile on her face. She wrapped her hand around his length, the fabric smoothing and bunching. She drank the low moan from his lips before releasing him and sliding from between him and the wall.

  
"Plans, Hawke?"

  
She smirked, eyes sparkling. "Only if you can catch me." She took off into the night, laugh twinkling like the stars above them. Varric smiled. A rogue could catch a rogue, especially since he memorized all her tells long ago. And he still had some shortcuts she didn't know about it. Hawke was pleasantly surprised when he caught up to her in the garden.

  
If anyone noticed the two shadows merging and laughing under the gazebo, they were smart enough to not say anything.


	16. Only Limited Mayhem

After the seemingly endless trip to the Winter Palace, Josie, Leliana, and Alanna quickly drug Hawke off to get ready for the evening's festivities. The Champion wasn't quite expecting the gusto the other three women put into making her shine but she happily returned the favor for her new friends.

  
"You know, I originally thought you guys were lucky with your snazzy uniforms, but I'm going to have far more fun in this dress then you can dream of. And still cause mayhem. I can carry both my daggers!"

  
"But not enough mayhem that you get thrown out, Lady Hawke." Josie reminded her primly.

  
Hawke laughed. "Yes, yes, charming mayhem. All their secrets will be mine. Or something. But if we need a huge distraction I'm sure I can quickly arrange something. Involving fire."

  
Alanna twirled her around before plopping down in the chair to touch up her makeup. "Varric is going to drop dead when he sees you."

  
Hawke smiled, with just a touch of sadness. "It's a lot like a dress from, let's say an event in Kirkwall. I'm not sure how he's going to feel about it."

  
Leliana piped in from arranging Josie's hair. "He suggested the changes actually. After you so nicely called the original a cake topper and seeing this one, I have to agree with him."

  
"Oh." And that was all Hawke would say on the matter.

  
"So Alanna," Hawke twisted the elf's hair up easily so the dainty curls tumbled down her back. "You have to walk with Duke Gaspard. All power hungry noble with that stab my cousin for a tiara vibe. How does Beardy feel about that?"

  
"You spend too much time with Sera."

  
"No. I spend just the right amount. Any less and I'd be rearranging Cullen's office and the war room. Any more and you'd have to sit judgement on us." All four of the women chuckled at the truth of that statement, all having been on the receiving end of one of Sera's pranks.

  
Alanna sighed. "It's a pity Cassandra couldn't come with us. I wanted to hear all her names announced. We don't even have middle names in my clan and she has a dozen."

  
"Seeker business, right? She's probably not to tore up. She told me about the suitor who's arm she broke. And you all worry about me causing trouble."

  
Leliana gracefully stood from Josie touching up her hair. "Masks up, ladies, we have a country to save."

  
Hawke chortled as they left the room. "We should have brought some mabaris."

 


	17. The Winter Palace

The Inquisition entered the Winter Palace together but Hawke had to enter on her own. She walked across the open ballroom as she was announced; the Lady Rose Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, eliciting gasps and chatter amongst the nobles. Her soft black boots made no noise against the floors and the red silk that floated around her with each step was eerily reminiscent of blood first dripped in water. It dipped low in back, the crisscrossing of the black ribbon the only covering for the majority of it. Leliana had insisted on adding a gauzy cloak of black, pinned to the shoulders of her dress with single rosettes. It dipped low enough to keep her back uncovered but did add a certain level of drama and Hawke appreciated the nod to her rogue abilities. After all, who needs to find a shadow when you have your own. The initial scattering roses across the bottom of the dress had been woven into her hair behind the feathers of her black hawk mask.

  
"We welcome you, Champion. You grace us with your presence."

 

Hawke came up from her curtsy and plastered her smile on below the mask."Thank you, Empress Celene. I do hope you enjoy your party."

  
Josie met her along the side of the room. "Remember, be better than nice to everyone. Charm them, the more eyes on you, the less there will be on Alanna."

  
Hawke smiled. "Don't worry, Ruffles. I made sure to get plenty of tips from Sera."

  
The ambassador wrung her hands. "And that is what worries me. Come, you must meet my sister. She's been dying to meet you and won't leave Alanna alone."

  
Hawke was dizzy by the time she worked her way back to the main doors. After speaking with Josie's sister, she had been pulled in more directions then she had limbs, all while smiling graciously. Not all the Orlesians were terrible but they were definitely all lairs. She had learned some interesting gossip, however, and was looking forward to unloading it on Leliana and promptly forgetting it.

  
After that she went to find a drink. Solas was lurking by the punch, but she wasn't horribly fond of him. He was perfectly kind and knowledgeable, but very stuck in his old ways. There was only so much moaning over lost elven glory she could take, especially when he did so little to help the ones who needed it. She wandered out to the fountain garden and gazed over the railing.

  
Hawke hadn't noticed him yet. He had caught a glimpse of her when she was announced but framed by the night sky, she made his blood race. "How's the flying?"

  
She smirked from under her mask. "Leliana was right about me being a distraction. I've had 7 proposals. One included a merchant fleet his father owned." She turned to face him. "You in a real shirt is just weird."

  
"It's stuffy but regal looking. My mother would be proud."

  
Hawke snorted. "I don't know. Is it traditional enough?"

  
Varric laughed. "She'd still be offended by my lack of beard. And the present company." Hawke smiled into her drink. "Especially your dress. I, however, greatly approve of that dress."

  
She met his gaze, lip tight between her teeth. "Promise? It looks an awful lot like a fancy version of that one from Kirkwall."

  
"In that it inspires me to take it off you slowly, yes."

  
Hawke narrowed her eyes. "If I have to be good, so do you." A bell sounded and Hawke sighed, rolling her eyes. "That's my cue. Time to dance with the nobles."

  
"Oh, Messere Tethras!" A woman called.

  
Hawke grinned. "Your fans have found you, storyteller."

  
She went to leave but Varric grabbed her hand, laying a soft kiss on the back of it. "Save me a dance, Champion."

  
Hawke flushed, grateful for the mask. "I most certainly will. It just wouldn't do for me to not be seen with my biographer again this evening." She gave him a wink and turned to the ladies standing behind her. "My ladies, I bid you a good evening. Do make sure he tells you a good story. He is the very best." She swept past them and back to the ballroom.

  
"Messere Tethras? Was that the Champion?"

  
"The one and only, ladies."

  
One whispered loudly to the other. "I expected her to be taller."


	18. That's a Proposal I Can Accept

Hours later, Hawke found herself exiting the Royal Suite. At the third bell, Alanna had taken over to dance and mingle so Hawke could catch a reprieve. Some of the gossip she had heard, and secrets shared with her in hopes for a bargaining piece in return, had led her on a merry chase through the palace. Venatori, assassins, dead elven servants, they almost had the works. All that they still needed was a dragon.

  
She quickly found Leliana and pulled her to a couch. "I found a naked man tied to Celene's bed."

  
"You what?"

  
"I climbed several balconies and stabbed some assholes. To discover there is a naked man tied to Celene's bed. I thought you might want to know. Also, the Royal Suite looks like a warzone."

  
"Did you question him?"

  
Hawke smiled. "Oh no. I left that for you and Alanna. He's still safely secured, so to speak."

 

 

  
The next few hours passed like a whirlwind. The Grand Duchess was behind the assassination attempt. Demon hole in the palace, the grand duke was now an exile. The Empress's elven lady love was an expert spymistress who was now firmly back in the good graces of the Empress. Varric found Hawke looking out over a balcony off the ballroom.

  
"Are you hiding?"

  
Hawke scoffed, pulling the petals off a flower. "I don't know how many times I've been proposed to. Or how many offers of a night I could never forget. From men and women." She let the mutilated flower drop.

  
"Any of them any good?"

  
Hawke glared at him. "No. You'd think people would be more concerned about imminent death and the world ending. But noo, not here." She rolled her eyes and went back to staring at the night.

  
"Well, how about you listen to my proposal?"

  
"I'm not surprised this palace got your words going. Even you would have a hard time making this weird shit up."

  
"Not quite the kind I meant, Hawke." The music started up inside and he pulled her to him and they started dancing. "I meant a marriage proposal. From me."

  
Hawke's eyes rounded before narrowing. "Hm. This better be a hell of a punch line, storyteller."

  
Varric scoffed. "The one time I'm not lying and you don't believe me." He twirled her around and pulled her close, still as the night. "Marry me, Rose Hawke."

  
Hawke bit her lip in mock consideration before smiling. "That's a proposal I can accept." His kiss tasted of promise and hope. Sera cackling from the bushes with Cole, however, had Hawke blushing to match her dress and searching for her knives while Varric laughed.

  
"You better run, you barbarians!" Hawke yelled after them.

  
"Come on, Hawke." He grabbed her hand. "We might as well be present when it's found scrawled on the wall somewhere and then announced to everyone." She squeezed his hand and they waded back into the Winter Palace together.


	19. To Work

"You are accompanying Alanna to the Arbor Wilds?"

  
"Yeah." Hawke was snuggled into his chest. She had just returned from the Emerald Graves the night before and he was leaving the next day.

  
"Pbbt, good thing I don't like you or anything." She laughed softly.

  
"Alanna likes having a good marksman. That isn't going to set himself on fire."

  
"I find that habit of Sera's to be endearing. She'll be with me actually. We leave the same time you do."

  
"Where to now?" He started rubbing her back, small tight circles that melted her like butter.

  
"The Hinterlands. Some bears are harassing the refugees. The road to Redcliffe is having trouble with mercenaries. Mmm, don't stop."  
Varric smiled and kissed her forehead. "I do have things to do today."

  
Hawke sat up, pouting. "And miss spending a whole day in bed with me?”

  
"You have things to do today too."

  
Hawke flopped back on the bed. "I miss Kirkwall where I had no responsibilities."

  
Varric snorted and got out of bed. Hawke rolled on to her stomach to watch him, the sunshine bronzing her skin. "Your face will stick like that, Hawke."  
She wrinkled her nose. "Stuck blissfully happy? I fail to see the downside of this."

  
"That face wasn't happy."

  
She sighed. "I actually do miss Kirkwall."

  
He leaned down to kiss her. "Me too, sweetheart. But we have a world to save first."

  
He went to his desk. It's amazing how much piled up when he was out. He started sorting through the missives, guild letters going straight to a box on the floor. Hawke got up, tossed one his shirts over her head, and started helping. All her correspondence ended up here too.

  
"Didn't we get you a bunch of clothes? Not that I mind."

  
"Yours are easier to find." She answered primly, tossing several guild letters into the box. "Oh! A letter from Isabela and Merrill!"

  
She hopped up on the cleared corner of the desk and tore it open. She hummed while reading, a smile lighting her face. When she got to the end, she began laughing so hard tears streamed down her face.

  
"What did Rivaini and Daisy do now?"

  
Still chuckling, Hawke handed him the letter. The bottom half was covered in an obscene drawing of them; Hawke with flowers in her hair and hearts around the rings on their hands.

  
Varric chuckled. "I take it you told them?"

  
"I sent it in Val Royeaux. I may have sent a letter to everyone. I needed to anyway because I promised the full details of the Winter Palace. Naturally I had to include us."  
They almost had half the desk clear when Varric found letters from Bethany, Aveline, and Anders. He handed them to Hawke, who quickly scanned Aveline's and Anders' letters. "Well, Isabela was able to drop Beth and Anders with Aveline in Kirkwall and they are headed north and away. Bela was making land too often for them to be comfortable. I had hoped that would quit when we got the Wardens out."

  
She unfolded the letter from her sister and then gave a small sigh. To say her sister was pissed about being dragged all over Thedas was an understatement. Hawke read from the letter. "I know why you are treating me like baggage, Hawke, but the moment I can get away from Aveline, I'm heading Weisshaupt with Hero. It's where I belong. I can't let you have all the glory you know." Hawke sighed again. "She sends her love and congratulations. I wish she would stay away from Weisshaupt, even if she does have the mabari. But maybe they need a Hawke to set them straight. I'm not entirely sure Alistair has the backbone to do it."

  
He pulled her off the desk and into his lap. "If anyone can inspire people into growing one, it's Sunshine. Or she'll set his hair on fire."

  
Hawke laughed and rested her head on his shoulder, kicking the overflowing box of guild letters. "Want me to take it out when I go down to the undercroft for my gear? Dagna could probably make something with them. Flying paper birds that breathe fire."

  
"That would be a use for them at least." He kissed her and she got to her feet, making quick work of dressing.

  
She hefted the box on to one hip and bent to give him another kiss. "Off to work we go."


	20. Tell Me What

"Varric says you know Flemeth, who is also Mythal." Alanna had called Hawke up to her rooms. What they had found in the Arbor Wilds didn't need to be common knowledge yet.

  
"Yes? She appeared a few times in my life. Namely saving my ass from the Blight. She would be the one who told me when I see an abyss, jump."

  
"Well, that explains a lot actually."

  
Hawke snorted. "So?"

  
"The temple was hers. It was full of actual ancient elves sworn to her service. The Well of Sorrows they were guarding was her thing; drinking from it was binding oneself to her."

  
Hawke's eyebrow raised slightly. "And did you?"

  
"No. Morrigan just insisted it be her. And I have enough on my head without having the voices she gained in my head."

  
"Ancient elven well that puts voices in your head and binds you to an ancient Elven Goddess who can turn into a dragon. That is actually something I have never heard before."

  
Alanna chuckled. "It's gets better. She is Morrigan's mother."

  
Hawke's jaw fell open and she began to laugh. "I like Morrigan and all, but that is priceless."

  
Alanna sobered. "How is Varric?"

  
Hawke's eyes narrowed. "I hadn't seen him yet. I was dealing with some accounts from my estate and figured he was playing Wicked Grace at the Tavern since you guys had been gone so long."

  
"They were supposed to tell you!"

  
Hawke swore and came to her feet. "Tell me what, Alanna?"

  
Alanna took a deep breath. "He was injured. He's down with the healers." Hawke took off, leaping the railing. Alanna called after her but the only answer she received was the slam of the door.


	21. Champions Do Not Cry

"Champion, I wondered when I would see you."

  
Hawke skidded to a halt. "Hello, Reverend Mother."

  
"Don't look so upset, dear. He's fine. I was just coming to get you."

  
Hawke nodded and politely pushed past her. The healer gave her a small smile before leaving the room. Varric was propped up on the cot, reading, and seemingly no worse for wear. Hawke's footsteps were unusually loud on the floor. Varric looked up and wished he hadn't. Hawke wasn't prone to rage but you could smell the sulfur as she burned. "I see you talked to the Inquisitor."

  
"I was going to brush this off on a lost helping hand until you said that." Her eyes narrowed and stormed, arms crossing and foot tapping. "I should kick you."

  
"That would be rude, I am after all injured. Alanna needed to talk to someone who had met and connected with the same thing. It might be the most normal thing to have happened to her."

  
Hawke's voice pitched high and loud. "Yes because talking about Myth-." She stopped, taking a deep breath and continuing much softer. "Mythical mothers is so much more important than the injured, hairy scoundrel that stole my heart."

  
"I am okay, Hawke. It was just a really good scratch. It's already scarred over. I'll even be able to walk to our rooms by myself."

  
"Not if I lock the fucking door. Do you realize how badly this scared me?"

  
It was Varric's turn to glare pointedly. "Do you know how many times you've done this to me?"

  
Some of her anger deflated but the scowl stayed plastered on her face. He held out his hand to her and she took it, dropping to her knees by the cot. Her head then dropped on to his lap, hard enough her forehead popped against his thigh. He felt a slight shake come from her. "Hawke? Are you crying?"

  
He heard a soft sniffle. "No. Champions do not cry."

  
"Sweetheart, I'm fine."

  
"Promise?"

  
"Have I ever lied to you?" Hawke's head shot up, glare and laughter warring on her face. "You missed it. Cassandra had to carry me out. She almost fainted; it was so overwhelming and emotional."

  
Hawke choked and then started laughing. "I'll be sure to ask her about that, storyteller. Somehow I think her version will be different."

  
"Hey, anything to get my almost wife to laugh."

  
"Uh. Speaking of. Ruffles asked if she could plan it once this is all over. She wants to do a cheerful thing." Varric made a face, Hawke smirked and continued. "I'm sure she would love researching a proper dwarven wedding or something with an obscene amount of nobles. Maybe even the creepy handmaidens three of Celene’s."  
She tumbled out of reach when he made a grab at her, laughing. He stood and stretched. Now that the stitches were out, he felt a lot better. Hawke watched him, eyes focused and body the fake kind of soft she used to trick opponents.

  
He settled for words instead of tackling her. "Do you want a dwarven wedding?"

  
She carefully shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it. World ending? Dragons? Never in the same place for more than a night?"

  
"So you're saying you have given absolutely no thought to this."

  
"It's been what two months? We've been busy." She gazed at the floor. "Maybe I want to make sure we will have friends left to be there."

  
Varric took the two steps to stand in front of her and tapped a finger under her chin. "Everyone has their shit together this time, Hawke."

  
"Not if you scare me like that again." She went into his open arms. "I used to deal with this better. We went running around covered in blood and injured 95% of the time. I'm getting too old for this shit."

  
He gave her a tight squeeze and soft kiss before pulling her to the door. "Come on, champion, I think I've earned a hero's welcome home."

  
Hawke snickered. "We are lacking in well-oiled virgins right now because of Bull."

  
Varric shook his head. "Menace."

  
Her bright eyes met his, her smile finally soft. "Storyteller."


	22. Celebrations

Ruffles knew how to throw a party, Hawke had to give her that. The troops outside were merrier then the mostly sedate bunch in the Great Hall. Alanna made sure she visited each of her inner circle and advisors to exchange well wishes and future plans. She cried when Sparkler said he would be leaving, which then made him cry, which had Iron Bull consoling them both with drink.

Hawke and Varric were content with their corner of the hall by the fire. Hawke was sprawled in her chair, feet kicked up on the table; the exact same look of gleeful mischief on her face as the day she arrived here. This time though she was holding Varric's hand while they joked with the others, relieved to be alive and the future safe.

  
Hawke leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder. "Did you name the book yet?"

  
"That's a spoiler. I can't just go giving that away."

  
Hawke snorted. "Fine. I'll just look through the manuscript when we get back to Kirkwall. Where did you send our stuff anyway?"

  
"Not the Hanged Man. I don't trust them to hold stuff for the amount of time they would need to. It's with a friend."

  
Hawke dropped her feet and turned to look at him. "I thought we were going straight home? It's been forever, Varric. What if Darktown is nice now?"

  
"Rivaini is picking us up in Denerim along with Alanna and Blackwall. They are going to meet her family. The whole gang plus those two will make travel slow, you know."

  
Hawke quirked an eyebrow. "Why is everyone going to be with Isabela?"

  
"Because, Hawke, a certain pirate queen is going to marry us out on the sea you love so much before dropping us off for a honeymoon."

  
Hawke blinked a few times and then kissed him so soundly the chair toppled over.


	23. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final Piece. I will admit I cried posting this. Why? This is my first completed work outside of school. These two characters, in all meanings of the word, and their compatriots have drug me kicking and screaming out my multiple years of writing funk. Thank you, darlings, for looking at my words that sometimes form coherent thoughts.

Hawke didn't get her quiet house on the beach that had room for friends and sticks for Hero.

  
The Viscount's Keep was a pretty good substitute since after the disbanding of the Inquisition, they had a lot of friends that came and went. The dining room seated everyone and then some. Hero was still with Bethany but Hawke was able to find another mabari to drool all over Varric's papers.

  
His duties as viscount kept him busy, but Hawke was happy to toss the Merchants Guild letters in a pile and to handle scuffles when he needed to deal with one of the businesses or a book.

  
In time, their friends’ laughs were punctuated with the shrieks and giggles of curly haired, brown eyed darlings that kept their parents on their toes with their escapades. Varric read to them every night while Hawke smiled from the doorway, softly reminding him "Only one, storyteller."

  
He would just smile back and say "They have more favorites then you, menace."


	24. An Alternate Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place at Adamant. Why does it exist? Because sometimes I like to make people cry. Or attempt it. So here is the sad ending of Hawke and Varric.

"Where is Hawke?

  
"She said you were her favorite story. I'm sorry, Varric." Cassandra said as she walked away from him.

  
He turned on Alanna but before the question could pass his lips she answered him. She shook her head sadly. "Someone had to cover our exit. It was her or Alistair. She elected to stay."

  
His shoulders slumped and his head fell. After a couple of deep breaths, he glared at Alanna. "Hawke had done enough for this damn world. But I guess it couldn't be happy until it took all of her." He stormed off to his tent.

  
No one went in to offer him comfort; they knew there was none they could give. The angry scratch of quill on parchment went on for hours.  
Varric wasn't sure whether to curse the Maker or the Stone or everything. Hawke had given everything to Kirkwall. All she had gotten in return was a life on the run from the Chantry and various other malcontents. And now? She was gone in the Maker Forsaken Fade. He couldn't even hate her for it; wasn't he the one that said the best heroes end up dead? Unless they failed sometimes? He hadn't wanted her to be a hero anymore. He hadn't wanted her to fail at coming back to him. He hadn't gotten the chance to tell her the words she deserved to hear, that he had been afraid of saying. Writing it over and over didn't get the words out of his head or ease the ache in his chest. With a whisper of her name, not just Hawke or Champion, but Rose, the woman behind the title and fame, he hurled the inkwell across the tent with a single bellow of pain. He stared at it a moment before covering his face in his hands as his body began to shake. The people at the fire startled when the glass shattered. Alanna stood outside the tent debating with herself. She could have faced his rage but she wasn't brave enough to face the broken sounds within. She walked away to guiltily lose herself in Blackwall’s embrace, grateful she still had her other half.

 

 

Hawke watched them disappear into the rift before it closed, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, Varric."

  
Nightmare crooned above her. "Little Champion, you left him. You left him all alone and how he will hate you for it. How does it feel failing someone who loves you again? You cause everyone you meet so much pain."

  
"Eat shit and die, monster!" Hawke slashed and screamed until it was a limbless head before her. She was kneeling on the ground, braced up with a dagger in the dirt, chest heaving. Blood poured from innumerable wounds and the world was hazy at the edges. She spat the taste of gore from her mouth, wincing when a tooth went with it.

  
Nightmare gasped several times before laughing. "Even if you survive, little champion, he can't even reach you here in the Fade. Dwarves can't dream. You will never see him again. You'll die broken like your body."

  
She took a deep breath and shoved herself to her feet. "See you in Hell." She plunged her dagger into Nightmare's brain with both hands before giving it a savage twist. She left the dagger in its skull and staggered her broken body away.

  
She made it to the stone stairs, where they last saw Justinia, before she fell. She just let herself lay. There was no coming back this time, no potion or daring healing to save her. She could feel her limbs grow cold. Her mind was back in the world; watching Varric smile at his most recent work, sending it off to the publisher. She thought about his soft lips and strong hands. But mostly she regretted never telling him just how much he meant to her; how she loved watching him work and how he had a smile that was just for her. How he had patiently taught her how to play Wicked Grace and put up with her dog that drooled all over him and his work. How he made her happy and whole and made it easier for her to bear the fact she had lost everyone, one way or another. Kisses that were forgiveness and sighs of acceptance. He was her absolution. If she was going to the Maker, it was going to be with Varric's name on her lips, a prayer and profanity. A sin she would commit again and again. Her body grew cold and her breaths labored while her mind went black.

  
"I love you, storyteller."


End file.
